


The Spectacular Peter Stark

by TrixterDark



Category: Fantastic Four, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Incredible Hulk - All Media Types, Thor (Comics), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers Family, Childhood to Adulthood, Crime Fighting, Domestic Avengers, Don't Have to Know Canon, Eventual Relationships, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Parent Tony Stark, See Peter date, Slow Build, Superfamily (Marvel), Violence, Well everybody is a parent, earth-122591, people might die, see peter date a merc, started from the bottom, vigilantes everywhere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-06-07 18:19:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6818992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrixterDark/pseuds/TrixterDark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raised by heroes, babysat by assassins and destined to be a modern marvel, this is the story of Peter Stark--protégé/scientist/vigilante-- and his journey from childhood to maturity.  Guest starring heroes and villains from all over the marvel universe....Including Deadpool. {Eventual M/M, I'm warning you}</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Look what the Cap dragged in

**Author's Note:**

> SPS: Year one  
> Issue# 1 :Look what the Cap dragged in  
> Original Story: Trixterdak  
> Art: Trixterdark  
> Parameters: Alternate universe (Earth-122591, influence from graphic novels and cinematic universe)  
> Marvel and Disney own all the stuff

Tony downed the shot in one gulp, blinking and scrunching up his face.Why did everything good have to taste so bad. He chased the shot with water and hopped off his work bench.  
“Master Rogers is requesting permission to land, sir.”  
Tony, who was in the middle of his second shot, choked. “Nngh, right. Let grandpa park his walker.” He took a glance at his reflection, and focused on his chest. The arc reactor, Mark II, cast its bright blue glow without remorse, as if it were proud that it was slowly poisoning him. He buttoned his shirt up, and headed down one level.

As Tony poured himself a *real* drink a the counter, he heard the elevator door’s open again. “So what was our pal Osborn hiding?’ Tony asked, not turning around.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Steve replied, coming out of the elevator.  
Steve’s latest mission had him going upstate New York, to one of Norman Osborn’s many vacation spots. According to his financial records, Osborn had recently spent a lot of cas redecorating a mansion just outside Albany. His expenses had all the comforts of home, including anesthesia, scrubs,small smocks. and enough medical supplies to run a small clinic. Naturally Shield sent Steve up to investigate, as he had been cooped up on the base and frankly, needed to get out.

Tony turned at Steve’s response, ready with a good retort but stopped when he realized the captain was not alone. “What is that?” He pointed with three fingers still wrapped around the glass.

Steve stood with hands on the shoulders of a small child. The boy had short chestnut hair, large glasses, and was dressed in ill-fitting clothing. He pushed the oversized glasses back onto his nose, blinking.  
“This is Peter.” Steve said, as introductions seemed like the next logical step. “Peter, this is Tony Stark.”

The child blinked.

Tony blinked back. After receiving no response, he turned his attention back to Steve. “Explain.” 

Steve looked down at the child. “Peter?”  
“Yes?” The child looked up at him, holding his glasses in place.  
“Can you go sit over there for a minute?” He gave the child a warm smile.  
A small smile appeared on the child's face. “Okay.” He crossed the room, heading over to a set of couches.  
Tony stood with his arms crossed and one eyebrow raised, signaling that Steve better have a good explanation for this.

Steve stood his ground, not faltering under Tony's gaze. “Went up there as planned and searched that estate from top to bottom.” He paused. “The only thing out of place was Peter. He was just sitting there, with a pair of goons, contracted guards I think. There was an operation room setup, but it was brand new, like no one got to use it yet. Nothing else was there.”

“And?” Tony shrugged, hiding a sudden jolt of pain. “Who’s kid is this?”

“Well….” Steve looked at Peter from the corner of his eye. “That's the thing. He doesn't know who he is.”

Tony squinted at him. “So you're telling me, Norman Osborn spent a cool million--chump change really--so he could act out ER with a random kid?” He was suddenly hit with a wave of nausea. “I think we need to call Chris Hansen and set up a Dateline special. Maybe Maury. Get the Daily Bugle on the phone.”

Steve frowned. “Oscorp has some shady stuff going on, but I don’t think this is that...”

“So what is he? A test subject? A mutant?” Tony refilled his glass. “There's a bald guy upstate with a ton of those. You should've just left him there, ‘cause babysitting just isn't my bag.”

“Excuse me.” 

Tony looked down.

The boy had returned, pressing back his oversized glasses. “Mr. Stark...May I use your bathroom?”

“Sure. Down the hall on your left.”

As the child quickly scurried away, Tony mouthed the words ‘May I’ with a look of confusion.

“Problem, Stark?”

“Uh, yeah.” He gulped his shot. “When was the last time you met a kid with manners?”

“Maybe his parents are old-fashioned.” Steve replied.

“Maybe Norman found him in an iceberg.”

__

 

“Well the results are in folks.” Tony walked back into the kitchen where Steve and Peter were casually waiting with a box of pizza.

“Mr. Peter, you’re a completely normal, if not undersized nine or ten year old boy.”

“Oh. Good.” Peter pushed his glasses back for the upteenth time, and Tony resisted the urge to take the child down to the nearest Lenscrafters. “But where do I come from?”

“Nowhere, apparently.” Tony put his tablet on the counter and picked a slice of pizza. “Apparently you don’t exist.”  
Peter paled at that and Steve shot the billionaire a warning look.

“He doesn’t mean it like that, Pete.” Steve said, and the child looked up at him for reassurance.

Despite Steve's smile, Peter wasn’t satisfied. “....”

“No birth records with your fingerprints, and no Peters that have recently gone missing.” Tony scratched his head. “ Might be best if you try to remember something.”

Peter looked at the table. “All I remember is being there in that big house.”

Steve remembered the look of surprise Peter had when he had barged in and took out the guards. At the time the boy didn’t understand why Steve had been concerned.

“Time for another dose, sir.” Jarvis announced and Tony took another slice from the box. “You can see yourselves out.”  
Peter stopped chewing his pizza. “Goodbye, Mr. Stark.”  
Tony stopped for a split second before pressing a button to summon the elevator.

Steve got up from the couch. “Hang on a second Stark.”

Tony stayed put, wearing a look of indifference. “Cap?”

“Look…” He glanced from Tony to the window and back. “Are you sure there's nothing else you can do?”

“I hate to break it to you, but this kid is just one of many. I'm sure SHIELD can figure out whatever Osborn was keeping him for.”

“If you couldn’t figure it out, I've got my doubts.” Steve looked uncomfortable. “I hate to admit it, but I don’t want to hand him over to SHIELD just yet.”

Tony sighed, rubbing his temples. “Oh...kay…” He rubbed his hands together, ignoring the throbbing in his chest. “I'm gonna...make...some calls. Keep junior out of my stuffffffff…”

“Tony!”

The billionaire steadied himself against the wall. He held one hand out, to keep Steve away. “I’m fine! I'm fine. Just, gotta get this core out…” He stumbled back into the elevator and Steve followed, unsure what to do.  
As the elevator quickly ascended Tony sucked in air through his teeth and cursed his luck. Of course the eternal boy scout himself had to show up at the wrong time, looming over him with that look of pity.

When the elevator door opened Tony went straight to his work bench, yanking his shirt back open and pressing two fingers against the opening port on the reactor. A sizzling burnt piece of metal ejected itself from his chest as Tony opened a case of identical ones, sticking a new palladium core in its place.

“How long has this been going on?”

Tony sat down at the bench. “.....”

Steve crossed his arms. He wasn't going to take silence for an answer.

Tony stroked his mustache in an effort to keep his cool facade. “I'm not in the mood for a round of 20 questions, so I'll be brief. This thing…” He tapped the reactor. “Is simultaneously keeping me alive and poisoning me at the same time.” He gestured to the smoking metal. “Now if you excuse me, my mortality and I would like to be alone.”

“.....” 

Tony went to work, and the room was full of holographic displays.

Steve retreated to the elevator. As it arrived he spoke again. “You don’t have to be this way, Stark.”

“What?” Tony squinted at him.

“Alone.” Steve responded as the elevator door closed.

\---___-________-___--___--

“Mr. Stark! Mr. Stark!” Tony awoke to tiny hands shaking his arm. He rolled onto his stomach, his eyes bleary. He willed his mind to focus: Bed. Child. Morning.  
But when did he go to bed, exactly? His last memory of the night was definitely at the workbench, synthesizing another set of cores and talking to that old man…  
“How’d you get in here?” He asked, rubbing his face. ‘How did I get in here?’  
“I asked Mr. Jarvis if I could come in.” Peter explained.  
“And you’re here because…?” Whatever time it was, it was too early for conversation.  
“Captain America made pancakes!” Peter exclaimed as if it were some important event.  
Tony was used to the other avengers popping in and out of the tower at will. He wouldn’t be surprised if Sam Wilson were snoozing on the couch, or Carol Danvers and Natasha Romanov were sparring in the gym. Actually, he’d like to see that. 

At Peter’s insistence, Tony slowly rolled out of bed and walked at his own pace when the child dashed away.

When they arrived in the kitchen, Steve was working on making a fully balanced breakfast, and Natasha was sitting at the counter table. She glanced at Tony. “Morning Stark.”  
Peter looked between them.  
“Nat, this is Peter.” Steve introduced them while flipping one more pancake.  
Natasha turned in her chair and stood, moving with the grace of a feline. She offered Peter her hand. “Cap told me all about you.”  
Peter held out his hand, and flinched when she took it. She was gentle, but her aura suggested formidable strength.  
“N-Nice to meet you.”  
She smiled, but that smile quickly faded. “When Cap didn’t return I figured something was up.”  
“Breakfast is done.” Steve said, and they each pulled up a stool.  
Tony looked Peter over. “Weren’t you wearing that yesterday?”  
“Yes.” Peter replied, before looking down at his pancakes. “I don’t have any other clothes.”  
Tony rolled his eyes. “Someone please take Little Orphan Petey shopping.”  
“Am I a orphan?” Peter asked, tilting his head.  
Natasha and Steve shared worried glances before both shootin Tony a scathing look.  
Tony feigned innocence. “We don’t know.”  
Peter poked a sunny side up egg with his fork and watched the runny yolk seep into his toast. “If I have parents, why isn’t there a missing child report or me?”  
“...We don’t know that there wasn't one...Maybe Osborn had you removed from the list, so no one could find you.” Cap offered, trying to be helpful. “Don't worry Peter, I'm sure we'll find something.”  
_____  
After breakfast, Tony disappeared into his lab, only to have his sacred silence ended by Peter a few hours later.

“What’s up? Cap making lunch or something?”  
“They went to SHIELD headquarters.” Peter said. “How far is that?”

“Like twenty blocks or something*. Google it.”

“With what?”

Tony grumbled for a moment before retrieving a laptop from the other side of the room. “Here. It’s got everything, passwords all locked in, go on a shopping spree, buy a small country. Just let me work.”  
Peter wobbled slightly but got a firm grip with both hands. He looked around the lab. “What are you working on?”

“Not dying.” Tony replied, not turning around. “Well, not so soon, anyway.”

“Is it the thing in your chest?” Peter asked.

“ Uh huh…”

“Does it hurt? Cap said to call if it did.”

“Doesn’t hurt. But I still have to upgrade it somehow.”

“You'll figure it out.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Well, you’re Iron Man, and Tony Stark. You’ve already done a few things people thought no one could ever do, and soon you'll do more.” Peter chewed on another carrot. “Plus, you're a scientist. Science is a process…” He paused. “I think I heard that somewhere before. Sometimes you need the right inspiration to get it going. Like fresh air...or a walk in the park maybe?”

“Real smooth, but no thanks. Now skidaddle so I can work.”

“Pfft.” Peter stifled a laugh. “Skidaddle…”  
“Scram.”

Peter didn’t stray too far, sitting with the laptop in a corner. In an effort to make the world less strange and new, he began to google the many questions that currently crossed his mind.  
While his endeavors were originally for education, his search eventually lead to cat videos.

Jarvis’ voice filled the air. “Master Logan requesting permission to land, sir.”

Tony stood. “Company is finally here…” ‘So I made that phone call after all…’In recent days he had a few blind spots in his memory. “Come on, let’s go get your memories back.”

Peter closed the laptop. “How?”

Tony sighed. “Do me a favor. Don’t ask me any more questions today.”

________________________________________________________________________________

 

They took the elevator back up to a new location for Peter: The Party deck. It acting as a landing pad not only for Tony, but any other avengers or unexpected guests that had to swoop in from time to time...which was both a good and bad thing, considering New York City had a wide assortment of enemies and allies.  
The X-Men’s blackbird had landed, and two occupants were coming out; a gruff looking man that somehow made sideburns look cool, and a calm looking man in a wheelchair.  
“Glad you could make it, Professor.” Tony clasped his hands together.  
Logan crossed his arms, looking unimpressed. His gaze fell on Peter, making the child shrink back behind Tony.  
The Professor’s wheelchair glided up to them, but Charles’ hands remained in his lap. Peter blinked in confusion, how did that work?  
“You must be Peter.” Charles extended his hand and Peter. It wasn't as firm as Cap’s or gentle like Natasha's, but he felt as if he could trust this man.  
They sat down in a conference room that belonged not to Avengers tower, but Stark Industries.  
Before Peter was sure what was happening, he found himself sitting in front of the Professor. Logan stood in the doorway, restless. Tony sat at the head of the table, watching from the other side of the room. As his own search had turned up nothing, he was interested in seeing what Professor Xavier could find.  
Peter squeezed the soft leather bound arm of his chair. “Is this going to hurt?”  
“No”, Professor Xavier smiled. “Think of this as a simple exercise. First, I want you to close your eyes.”  
“Oh...kay.”  
“Now, let’s try going back.” Xavier pressed two finger to his temple. “What is the earliest thing you remember, Peter?”  
Peter furrowed his brow. “Um, I was...sitting on the couch. There were some other guys there. Then that’s when Captain America came, and…”  
“Are you sure?”  
“Y-Yes…”  
“Let’s try this...How did you get to that room?”  
Peter squinted but before he could open his eyes Xavier called to him. “Stay with me, Peter.”  
For a moment neither of them spoke.  
Tony looked back and forth between the two. He’d seen the Professor in action before. Honestly, he found the Professor’s abilities a little frightening. As a being who could manipulate the senses, possess or control the minds and bodies of others, and create completely real-feeling illusions he could easily take control of the tower, SHIELD, and perhaps the world.  
The fact that he would lend his abilities for the simple act of helping a amnesiac child seemed both amazing and somehow wasteful, but only himself had called on the Professor, and could barely remember why.  
“It’s...dark.” Peter’s lip trembled.  
“Go on.Who’s that in the next room?”  
“That’s...my aunt.” Peter sounded surprised. “Her name is May, and that’s Uncle Ben.”  
Tony let out a sigh he hadn't realized he'd been holding in. The kid had a family. Now they were getting somewhere.  
“And where is this?”  
“Hall closet. I was….” Peter stopped.  
“Sounds like someone’s at the door.” Professor Xavier said.  
“Wait...Don't…” Peter squeezed the arm rest. “Don’t go. Don't go the door!”  
“Peter--”  
“No-stop-don’t-open-wait-wait-STOP! STOP!STOP PLEASE NO.STOOOOP IIIIT--” Peter had gone from whining to pleading, to screaming in terror. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as his begged for Whatever he was seeing to disappear. “MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP!”  
Tony crossed the room quickly. “ Alright show’s over!” He shook Peter’s shoulder. “Snap out of it!”  
“Wait!” The Professor commanded.  
Peter began to speak gibberish until his eyes finally rolled forward. Tears streamed down his face, and snot leaked from his nose. In his eyes there was nothing but terror. He grabbed hold of Tony and let out a series of strained sobs, burying his face in the man’s shirt.  
Tony kept one hand on the child's shoulder as he continued to cry.

Once Peter’s sobs had subsided, Tony took the child upstairs to rest he went back to interrogate the professor.

“What the hell was that about!?” Tony asked, storming back into the room.  
“Things are more dire than I originally surmised.” Professor Xavier replied. “Peter’s amnesia was a defense mechanism. You see, he was a witness to his aunt and uncle’s murder.”

Tony was silent, and the Professor continued.  
“He was placed in their care after his parents disappeared. But based on what I uncovered, that ‘disappearance’ was some time ago. I don’t know what Osborne wants, but I fear what other measures he may take to get it.”  
___________________________________________________________________________________  
When Steve and Natasha returned, Tony filled them in on what the Charles had uncovered, and his own subsequent discoveries.  
“Peter Parker.” Tony said, as he paced the floor.  
Steve and Natasha sat at the counter, watching.  
“Finally how a last name changes things.” Tony said. With a snap of his fingers, all his collected data hovered in mid air. “Peter Benjamin Parker, age nine, son of Richard and Mary---whom, disappeared overseas...also nephew to Benjamin and May Parker, who were reportedly killed in an altercation during a robbery. A ton of shit, but it's a start.”  
“I’ll see what I can find about Richard and Mary…” Natasha spoke up.  
“Almost sounds like you know something already.” Natasha didn’t reply, leaving Steve and Tony to quietly speculate for a moment.  
Tony leaned against the counter, looking more lucid and put together than he had been in days. Peter had been right; he needed fresh air, new inspiration. Now he had it.  
_____________________________________________


	2. The Parker Effect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPS: Year one  
> Issue# 2 :The Parker effect  
> Original Story: Trixterdark  
> Parameters: Alternate universe (Earth-122591, influence from graphic novels, some of the animated series and cinematic universes)  
> This fic utilizes the Stark Industries/Avengers tower layout from Redtigress.tumblr.com  
> Marvel and Disney own all the stuff.  
> A lot borrowed from Iron Man 2

SPS: Year one  
Issue# 2 :The Parker Effect

__________________________________________________________________  
After a trauma induced sleep, Peter awoke in the middle of the night. Once again he found himself in new surroundings, as he woke up in a guest room. The previous night he had camped out on the couch, and fallen asleep talking to Jarvis.  
With his memory restored, Peter was riddled with fear. There were so many questions he wanted answered, and too many things he didn’t want to think about.  
He rolled out of bed. “Jarvis?”  
“Yes?” The A.I.’s voice was lower than usual, but still audible over the soft rumble of the air system.  
“Am I…” He swallowed. “Is..Is anyone else up?”  
“According to my sensors, the gymnasium is occupied.”  
_________________________________________________________________  
Steve was destroying yet another punching bag, when Peter walked into the gym. State of the art equipment could be found around the room, most of it modified to keep up with the super-powered beings that frequented the gym.  
“Can’t sleep?” Steve asked, steadying a bag.  
“Yeah.” Peter looked around. “You can’t sleep either?”  
Steve shrugged. “I’ve been a little wound up lately.”  
They sat on a bench by the window. Judging by the specks of light dotting the skyline, a good portion of Manhattan was awake as well.  
“Do you always beat stuff up to go to sleep?”  
“No…” Steve rubbed his neck. “Sometimes I read. I've got to catch up on…”  
“Oh, yeah…” Peter pushed the oversized glasses back on his nose. “Are things really different from, uh...your time?”  
“Stuff seems to move a lot faster.” Steve’s gaze was distant. “And yet as different as things may seem, the basic stuff stays the same.”  
“What basic stuff?” Peter asked, curious.  
“The city still has its hustle and bustle, there's always a fight going on, and Nathan's still has the best hot dogs…” He shrugged. “So really, nothing has changed.”  
“Nathan's?”  
“Its a food joint from Brooklyn.” Steve explained. “There aren’t that many now, but the one that really matters is the one on the boardwalk in Coney Island. There's nothing quite like a day at Coney.”  
“What's it like?”  
“Well there's the beach, the vendors, the amusement parks...I've spent a bunch of great summers…”  
As Peter kept asking questions, Steve regaled stories of his youth until Peter’s eyelids drooped, and the Captain carried him back upstairs.  
\-----------  
“Good morning, Mr.Parker.”  
Peter sat up. “Huh?”  
The bedroom door opened and Tony stepped into the room. “Rise and shine, Parker.” He tossed a pair of jeans, a shirt, and a baseball cap at the child.  
“Ah!” Peter dodged the pants, but the shirt still collided with his face. “Oof! What's this for?”  
“Get washed, dressed, and come down for breakfast.” Tony instructed. “We got a long day ahead of us.”  
“Doing what?” Peter asked, putting on his glasses.  
“Uh, finding that inspiration mumbo-jumbo. Duhhh. Now hurry up.”  
The door closed behind Tony with a click.  
_____________  
Peter appeared downstairs as summoned. Cap was cooking once again, sporting an apron with a large Eagle and the word ‘Freedom’ embroidered across his chest.  
“Morning Pete.” He smiled.  
“Good morning, Captain.” Peter smiled back. “That's uh...A nice...uh…”  
Steve looked down at the apron, his cheeks coloring to a rosy pink. “A gift from Stark.”  
Tony sat at the counter with a piece of toast in one hand, and a remote in the other. A screen on the fridge was displaying the local news.  
“Whether you're a fan of Iron man, or tech in general you'll want to hear this next story. Living legend Tony Stark is giving away premium VIP tickets to this year's Stark Expo today in Flushing Meadows, Queens. The event is a time honored tradition, first introduced by Howard Stark back in 1943. All you have to do is…”  
“The Stark Expo?” Peter pulled up a stool for himself. “Isn’t that where you show off all the new stuff?”  
“Yeah, the new stuff.” Tony replied, putting down the remote. “Hurry up and eat so we can get out of here.”  
“Take your time.” Steve looked down at Peter. “Can you help me put these on the table?”  
“Okay!” Peter hopped off the stool. “Is Miss Romanov coming to breakfast too?”  
“She's out working.” Steve replied, handing him a stack of plates.  
“Hm….” Peter set down three plates.  
_______

“Mind telling me why you're snooping through old files, agent?”  
At the sound of Nick Fury’s voice, Natasha did not halt her activity as she copied more files to her drive. “I've got the clearance, I don't see why I can't use it.”  
Fury leaned against the desk, arms crossed. “This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain orphan shacking up at Stark’s Tower, would it?”  
Natasha looked up from the screen. “And what if it does?”  
“Then I suggest you not probe too far.” He paused. “The Parker legacy isn't the only thing at stake here. There's a lot to uncover, and a lot of unfriendly people don't want you digging around. ”  
“Something beyond your control?” Natasha raised an eyebrow.  
“Something beyond control.”  
____  
Tony put on a baseball cap and sunglasses--his usual disguise.  
They headed out of stark tower and walked straight to the curb, where Happy sat behind the wheel of a Black camaro.  
Tony and Peter got into the back, and Peter buckled himself in.  
“Where to boss?” Happy asked, adjusting his mirror.  
“77th and Columbus.”  
“77th…” Peter perked up. “I know that place! That's where the natural history museum is, right? Is that where we're going?”  
Tony looked down at him. “You bet your oversized glasses. Can you even see out of those things?”  
“No. But they were my Dad’s.” Peter looked down. “Mister Star--...Uh...Tony?”  
“What?”  
“Do you think my parents are really missing?”  
Tony looked at him over his sunglasses. His mind flashed back to twenty years earlier. “We'll find out.  
______  
“You been here before, kid?”  
“Uh huh. Uncle Ben took me once, and my Dad showed up...It was fun. We spent the whooole day looking around.”  
“Sounds great.” Tony replied as they stood in line. “Unfortunately, we don’t have that kind of time.”  
___  
With money as no object, but as if time were if the essence Tony guided Peter from exhibit to exhibit, across the park, and down Fifth Avenue’s museum mile. The devoted no more than two hours to each abode until traveling up to Harlem, stopping for a quick bite and heading back to the tower. Peter fell asleep during the ride, and rush hour traffic slowed their return home.  
“I have never seen a kid that jazzed about seeing a bunch of museums.” Happy commented as he ate his third hot dog.  
“Ease up on those unless you want some serious heartburn.” Tony replied, looking out the window. The sun had yet to set on Manhattan, and the streets were live with activity. Tony watched the scenery go by as if were the first time…. and the last time.  
_____  
When they returned, Steve was just entering the tower as well, with a bag of groceries in each hand.  
“Hey, did you guys, uh…” Steve tried to come up with the right words. “Get enough researching done?”  
“Yeah!” Peter beamed, holding an encyclopedia. “We went to Natural history museum and watched this show on the big bang it was cool ‘cause it felt like we were in space! And then, we had hot dogs in the park and saw these guys in stilts and then we went to the Met and then…”  
By the time they had reached the 60th floor, Peter’s recount of the day had finally ended. Tony leaned his head against the cool steel.  
“Sounds like you had a good time.” Steve replied.  
“Yeah!” Peter grinned. “Next time, can we…” He trailed off mid-sentence. His gaze grew distant. There was no ‘next time’. “Nevermind.”  
Tony looked down at him, tired. His mind put together the pieces like a jigsaw puzzle. “Next time we’ll hit the libraries.”  
Peter looked up confused, but Tony continued. “Not sure I got any of that ‘inspiration’ stuff running around the city today. Gonna try again tomorrow.”  
________  
“What's for dinner?” Peter asked as Steve set down bags on the kitchen counter.  
“Burgers and fries.” Steve replied.  
“Can I help? Aunt May lets me mash the meat! She won't let me cut the onions though…”  
“I'm sure there was a good reason for that….” Steve replied, biting back a laugh. “Why don't you go wash up first?”  
“Okay!” As Peter hurried off to the nearest bathroom, Steve and Tony spoke.  
“He’s a lot better than yesterday.” Steve said, pulling the spice rack out of the wall.  
Tony shrugged, sitting down.“Well I figured he deserved a day out after that session with the Professor.”  
Steve crossed his arms, leaning against the counter. Despite his defensive stance, his face softened. “How are you doing, Tony?”  
“Well, I’m not magically cured or anything.” Tony propped his chin up with one hand. “Still dying slowly, like everyone else...Well, maybe not as slow as you.” ‘Seriously, G.I. Jesus.’  
Tony’s usual barbs had lost their bite.“If you need anything…”  
“I'm. Fine.”  
“Not from where I'm standing.” Natasha appeared without a sound, like a spider that had been lurking in a corner.  
“Any news on the Parkers?”  
“Plenty.” She dropped her portable drive on the counter. “So much that Fury came to put me off the trail.”  
“Guessing they weren't florists then.” Tony said. “What are we dealing with?”  
“Something close to home.” Her eyes darted around the room. “Where's Peter?”  
“Here!” Peter popped up, sneakers squeaking. “Hello.”  
“Perhaps we should save this chat for later.”  
Steve nodded.  
Tony stood. “I'm gonna be in the office. Call me if anything develops.”  
As he walked towards the elevator, Natasha called to him. “Take this.” She tossed the drive. “Homework.”  
He grunted in response before heading down.  
“Miss Widow, are you staying for dinner?” Peter asked.

“Yes, Peter.” Natasha smiled. “What’re we having?”  
“We’re making burgers!” Peter grinned.  
“We?”Natasha looked at Cap.  
“We.” Cap nodded at Peter. “Did you know that Nat makes a mean potato salad?”  
Natasha’s smile was coy. “Is that an invitation or are we just bragging, Captain?”  
_____  
“Did my homework.”Tony said as they sat in one of the conference rooms.  
After dinner, Peter had excused himself to read his Encyclopedia.  
“Looks like his Dad was a busy man.”  
“His mother worked for the Government, but has work across multiple agencies. His father worked for SHIELD.” Natasha explained. “After a few Hydra allies popped up at Oscorp, Ray Parker was planted there as a double agent. Oscorp hired him to work on a new serum based on yours, Steve...about the same time Banner started working on his...”  
Steve blanched.  
Tony shook his head, sighing. “Ray took a different approach, quite ingenious--splicing attributes from animals to replicate and enhance them in humans...Based on the work files, code:spider was complete. But Parker didn’t want to share.”  
“That's the official story.” Natasha spoke. “Ray and Mary apparently fled...In reality, someone was trying to make more of the stuff and kidnapped Ray...Mary went after him, but they're currently missing. Now his research is underwraps at Oscorp.”  
“But why attack the other Parkers? And why take Peter?” Steve asked. “Oscorp has the work.”  
“The stuff is genetically coded.” Tony said, waving the hard drive. “In order for it to work, you have to be of relation or be a descendant of Ray Parker.”  
___________________  
Pepper took the elevator up past Stark Industries, a suitcase in one hand and a latte in the other.  
“Tony?” She called. Hearing shifting in the living room, she headed there first.  
“Don't even ask how Dubai was”, She started up rolling the suitcase behind her. “I mean it was beautiful but of course they were asking where you were and then we were talking about the Expo…”  
Her eyes fell on Peter, who sat on the couch with his book. “Hello.”  
Pepper stared at him for a moment.  
Peter stared back, not sure what to do.  
The elevator slid open again, this time revealing Tony, who found them both mid-staring contest.  
“Tony, who is this?”  
“ Pepper Potts.” He pointed at Peter. “ Meet Peter Parker. What nursery rhyme did I just step into?”  
Peter laughed.  
Tony put an arm around Pepper. “Join me in the kitchen for a minute?”  
Pepper gave him a look.  
______  
“What is that child doing here!?” Her voice was somehow between a shout and a whisper.  
“Oh, Peter? He’s uh, a new assistant for the--okay he's kinda hiding out here at moment. There's some bad folks after him, and the tower seems like the best option right now.”  
“What!? Tony, this isn't like watching a pet gerbil or something! Isn't there something SHIELD can do? Where are his parents?”  
“SHIELD’s acting weird, and the Parkers are missing.”  
“Why not send him up to Xavier’s school? I'm sure Charles wouldn't mind.”  
“Yeah, well Pepper I'd send him to Charles but A) Pete's a little traumatized from the last time they met and B) That school tends to blow up every now and then.”  
“Yeah...okay but, we can't just--”  
“Pepper.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “I've got this.”  
_______  
“Fury wants to keep Peter’s whereabouts a secret.” Natasha said. “From the sound of things I’d say Oscorp isn't the only group interested in Peter.”  
Steve wrapped sports tape around his knuckles. He sighed. “He’s just a kid.”  
“That's why we have to protect him.” Natasha replied. “I know what it's like to start young. You know what's it's like to be part of war.”  
“He doesn’t deserve that. No one does.”  
______________________________  
With Steve and Natasha out, breakfast was an awkward affair between Tony, Pepper, and Peter. As Cap was not present, neither were his pancakes. With the Stark Expo looming, Pepper pushes Tony’s focus on to exhibition, leaving Peter to mull around the lab for most of the day. But he wasn’t alone.  
He had Jarvis.  
“How come you're called Jarvis?”  
“That is because I am as Mr. Stark puts it, ‘Just a rather very intelligent system.’”  
“Ohhh…” Peter sat at a laptop in one of the guest rooms. “This article I'm reading says Tony used to have a butler named Jarvis. You're not named after him?”  
“Perhaps that is something you should discuss with Mr.Stark.”  
“Jarvis…”  
“Yes, Mr. Parker?”  
“How do I get home from here?”  
“Where is home?”  
“In Queens. Forest Hills specifically. I think I can take the seven*, but I've never taken the train alone before...”  
“I would advise against leaving Stark Tower, Mr. Parker. As an alternative if you desire, I can show you a live image of your ‘home’.”  
“You can? How?”  
“Stark satellite RD-2 is currently positioned over this area.” The plasma screen mounted to the wall sprang to life, giving Peter a feed of the earth.  
“Wow….”  
“If you give me an exact location, I should be able to locate it.”  
“So...The White House?”  
“Yes.”  
“The Grand Canyon?”  
“Yes.”  
“The Bronx zoo.”  
“ I believe I stated any location.”  
“Oh, oh. Okay.”  
________  
Tony found Peter upstairs, sitting on the floor in front of a plasma screen.  
“What are you doing?”  
“Watchingsh wolvsh.” Peter replied, shoveling microwave popcorn into his mouth.  
Tony stepped closer, crossing his arms. “We over the arctic?”  
“No, this is Wyoming.” Peter responded. “ May I see a rain forest next, Jarvis?”  
“Yes, Mr. Parker.”  
_____  
Steve returned to the tower the following day. He found Peter looking at the Sahara in the livingroom.  
“Evening, Peter.” Having looked into the ‘missing Parkers’ matter he was beyond hopeful and now considering how to tell Peter what he had learned.  
Fragments of the private plane Mary and Ray Parker had boarded were found. It seemed the Parkers would not be returning.  
“Wanna go do something fun?”  
___  
Luna Park was already lit up by the time they reached Coney Island. Steve, like Tony had before, was in civilian camouflage--a baseball cap and sunglasses. After pushing through traffic Happy dropped them off outside the park. The streets were lined with carts and tourists--the local restaurants had set up tables and chairs outside. Carts of cheap light-up toys were being sold, along with Brooklyn themed memorabilia.  
As the crowd grew Steve put Peter on his shoulders and waded his way towards the boardwalk. “Well, what do you want to do first?”  
“Can we go in Luna Park? Wait, is that the beach? What's up there?”  
Up on the boardwalk there were more foods to try, more things to see, and more people to get squished by. A large crowd had gathered in front of a mural. A small band of street performers entertained the crowd with jumps, flips, and tricks.  
Peter was amazed with their quick movements and synchronization.  
“Wow! I want to do that!”  
“Cartwheel?” Steve asked.  
“Yeah!”  
“Well maybe you should take up gymnastics.” Steve chuckled. “I think Nat could teach you a thing or two.”  
Peter was silent, contemplating the idea. When the show came to an end, they walked further down the boardwalk.  
After entering the park, they went on all of Steve’s old favorites--as Peter had no preference. But between the tilt-a-whirl, the cyclone, and the haunted house, his adrenaline was shot, and the child wanted to try something...slower.  
“Can we ride the Wonder Wheel?”  
“You bet! Stationary or Swinging?”  
“Is there a big difference?” Peter frowned. “Swinging sounds more fun.”  
____  
As their car rocked from side to side and Coney Island blurred below them, Peter squeezed his seat.  
“Stationary next time, then.” Steve said, looking below.  
Peter held on tight. The swinging didn’t bother him as much as banging into the metal wall did. People were gathering on the beach and boardwalk. “What's going on down there?”  
“Looks like the show is about to start.”  
At the crackling noise and thunderous boom, the sky was lit up with fireworks. They had a excellent view from the wheel as firework after firework was launched, in different styles and brilliant colors.  
______  
After returning to solid ground, Peter found he was already tired.  
“Ready to go home?” Steve asked as he took Peter’s hand.  
“I thought you wanted to go to Nathan's.” Peter replied, yawning.  
“I'm not hungry. It can wait until next time.” Steve shrugged.  
“.....” Peter looked up at him. “Next time?”  
“Next time.” Steve repeated.  
“......” Peter looked down at the ground, then up again. “Let’s bring Tony, too.”  
Steve adjusted his cap. “I dunno if this is exactly Stark’s thing, but alright. Sure.”  
“Maybe Ms. Pepper too. She seems like she needs to get out more.”  
Steve laughed at that.  
“STOP!”  
They both turned their heads. A woman carrying her child was pointing at a man dashing through the crowd. “He’s got my bag!”  
“Don't move, Peter.”  
Steve looked around. His eyes fell on a prize stand. Taking a frisbee from the stand (“Hey!” “Let me borrow this”)  
He chucked it at the fleeing man, it bounced off a nearby pole and struck the man’s achille, causing him to trip.  
Steve ran as fast as he could, tackling the man back down and retrieving the woman’s clutch. As a policeman came near, he tipped his hat to the officer and after handing the man over, he returned the woman's purse (“ I believe this belongs to you, Ma’am”) and the vendor's frisbee, at which point someone exclaimed; “That's Steve Rogers!”  
“It's Captain America!”  
With his cover blown, Steve found himself in a sea of admirers. His cheeks darkened, and his eyes went to Peter, who stood to the side, watching.  
There was something amazing about that, Peter thought. A man like Captain America, still taking time to foil small crimes, trying to blend in but standing out. He wanted to grow up to be that amazing.  
________  
With a packed house and cheers echoing around him Peter was awestruck by the sheer size of the Stark Expo. He stood in the VIP section with Happy as Iron Man suddenly dropped down from the sky and onto the stage, causing thunderous applause.  
He and Tony had went through the expo the day before, going over all the new innovations and projects that were being unveiled.  
Now that the Expo was live Peter was mesmerized. Things looked, brighter, bigger. It was like an amusement park, but Technology was the theme. Between all the new products and popularity, the future of Stark Industries was looking bright. Following a presentation featuring narration from both Tony and archived film clips from Howard, Iron Man stepped back stage, removed his suit and checked his vitals. Here was no telling how much longer he could keep his up.

________  
“WELCOME TO THE MONACO HISTORIC GRAND PRIX!”

Following the successful launch of the Expo, Tony whisked his CEO and Peter away for a weekend in Monaco that just happened to coincide with one of the most important races of the year. Things were going great, until in a moment of spontaneity, Tony decided to drive his own racecar. Peter and Pepper were both against the idea.  
So when Ivan Vanko sliced the the car in half, it was only icing on the cake.  
Tony saw it as an attack on the Stark name, not himself. Having professed that no other country or person could replicate his reactor, let alone his suit.  
But after Vanko’s capture and SHIELD’s cleanup, Tony took his small posse back to the states to celebrate his birthday in the flashiest, most ridiculous way possible. Instead of the Tower, they relocated to his beach house. It was reckless and irresponsible. He knew that. Problem was, he was sure it was his last, and that meant it had to be his best.  
Pepper stormed off at one point and Peter went down into the garage.  
Seeing Tony sloshed out of his wits was a bit depressing. He sat in one of Tony’s cars and pretended to drive around.  
“Party too much for you, Parker?”  
Peter almost jumped out of the car. Coming through the door was a man dressed completely in black, sporting an eyepatch, and a metallic suitcase.  
“Are you...Blade**?”  
Fury shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t deal with vampires, Mr. Parker.” He handed Peter the case. It was heavy, causing Peter to stop it in the passenger seat. “Well, blood suckers sure. Make sure that gets to Stark when he’s done making an ass of himself.”  
___________  
“Tony?”  
“What do you have there, kid?”  
“A man with an eyepatch told me to give this to you when you uh...stopped making a butt of yourself.”  
“Those your words or his?”  
“I can’t really repeat what he said.”  
“Did he look like Shaft?”  
“Who?”  
“Did he look like...Samuel L Jackson?”  
“Oh. Yeah. But scarier.”  
______________________  
"Tony, you are too young to understand this right now, so I thought I would put it on film for you. I built this for you, and some day you'll realize that it represents a whole lot more than just people's inventions. It represents my life's work. This is the key to the future. I'm limited by the technology of my time, but one day you'll figure this out. And when you do, you will change the world. What is, and always will be, my greatest creation... is you."  
After reviewing the footage Howard left behind, Tony was left to contemplate his relationship with his father. He was still bettering him from beyond the grave. Howard's recording could not erase the years of resentment, the fights, or the tears--but it was a start.  
____________________  
Peter found himself alone with Jarvis again. This time, instead of gazing upon the world, he opted for syndicated sitcoms. Peter’s time with Avengers was limited, he was sure of that. His parents would be found, and he'd be back on Queens--alone. Peter knew his parents had important jobs, but he had spent so much time being babysat by his Uncle Ben and Aunt May that it were as if they had raised him instead.  
The whole thing was like a strange dream. Sure, every kid he knew back home wanted to hang out with the Avengers, but surely not because of circumstances like these.  
“Breaking News--The Stark Expo is up in flames as Iron Man himself is locked in combat with another mech suit. Eyewitnesses say that the mayhem, started during a Hammer Industries demo. The area around the expo is currently being evacuated. We’ll be bringing more on this story as it develops.”  
Peter’s breath hitched. What if Tony had another attack while he was in his suit? His eyes were glued to the television. Visions of spectators running in fear were played. Footage submitted from onlookers showed the aftermath form different angles. Peter huddled in front TV for what seemed like eternity, hoping it would soon be over.  
____________________  
“Peter?”  
He woke up to the sensation of Natasha shaking his arm.  
“Miss Widow?”  
The TV had been shut off long ago, the distant noise of night traffic could be heard from the window. Peter sat up and Natasha straightened, as if she were ready to give a report.  
“Is Tony okay?” Peter asked, yawning. He wasn’t sure when he had fallen asleep.  
Something in Natasha’s eyes suggested she had not been expecting the sudden question. “He’s fine.” Her tone was soft, but somewhat inorganic.  
“Are you okay?” Peter asked. “You seem tired.”  
“What makes you say that?”  
“You’re standing different…”  
Natasha crossed her arms. “How long have you been by yourself?”  
“I wasn't. Jarvis is here.”  
Natasha rubbed her temple. “I'll have to have a talk with the others...Feel free to call me if this happens again, okay?”  
“Oh...kay.”  
“Stark and Pepper will be back tomorrow. Go get some sleep.”  
____________________  
“Been one hell of a week.”  
“Yeah.” Peter nodded.  
They sat in the ring of a huge doughnut, on top Randy’s Doughnut shop, somewhere in California, as far as Peter could tell.  
He took a bite out of his jelly filled mess. “You made a new element. That’s pretty cool.”  
“New element, new core, new lease on life.” Tony took another doughnut from the box in his lap. “Only one thing left to do.”  
“What?”  
“Disneyland.”  
Peter’s eyes lit up. “We're going to Disneyland!?”  
“Disneyland, Disneyworld, screw it...Let's just go to all of them.”  
“Are the others going to come?”  
“Heh. Imagine that.”  
______  
“What are we going to do, Tony?”  
After putting Peter to bed, Steve met with Tony and Pepper in one of the common areas. Tony was feeling slightly under the weather, but had already had his detox for the day. Pepper had not been made privy to his current condition and his extra hard on him for skimping on his work. He concentrated on not dropping the glass in his hand.  
“About what?’  
“You know what. Peter.” Steve kept his voice low.  
“There has to be somewhere safe for him to stay.” Pepper said, taking a sip of wine to calm her nerves. The upcoming Expo had her rattled.  
“And where would that be?” Tony raised an eyebrow. “The Parker project was kept under wraps, it's clear that Fury wants the whole thing kept quiet, so SHIELD is off the table. Can’t send him to Charles. And he’s a sitting duck at any Foster home. I think the answer is obvious.”  
Pepper looked confused.  
Cap’s eyes widened. “You mean..?”  
“We keep him.”  
“Are you out of your mind!?” Pepper exclaimed.  
“I know it doesn’t sound like the best idea, Pepper. But our options are limited.” Steve said, looking nervous. “We don’t even know who hired those guys to take the Parkers out. Osborne's out of the country--we can’t tie him to the costs, just Oscorp. It could be a inside job. It could be Hydra. We don’t know. All we know is that we have to keep Peter safe. At least if he’s here, we can keep an eye on him.”  
“He’s not a dog Tony, he’s a child! There has to be some who, a relative or--”

“His relatives are dead.” Tony cut her off. “Ray and Mary are dead. His Uncle Ben and Aunt May are dead. You wanna help raise the head count? Sending him to a civilian is like giving out a death warr--” Tony stopped.  
Peter was standing in the doorway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> __________________________________  
> *Wanna see where Peter lives? Don’t take the seven. You want the F. That’s the joke.  
> ** Blade, you know, played by Wesley Snipes. That dude who fights vampires, that was referenced in Deadpool, who is also R rated mind you and a Avenger and met Spider man (Fox animated series and Disney’s current one if you want to see a clip)


	3. It’s the great Mandarin, Peter Parker and Bonus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parameters: Alternate universe (Earth-122591, influence from graphic novels, some of the animated series and cinematic universes)  
> Iron man 3 movie stuff, Comic book Mandarin  
> This fic utilizes the Stark Industries/Avengers tower layout from Redtigress.tumblr.com  
> Marvel and Disney own all the stuff

It was not a dark and dreary day for the Parker funeral. On the contrary. It was bright and sunny, as if the world had not noticed they were gone. The turnout was a decent amount for such short notice. There were neighbors of Ben and May, agents that had worked with Mary, colleagues of Ray’s....But the only people Peter recognized were the Watsons and the girl from his class, Mary Jane.   
Peter stared at his shoes for most of the event, only mobile when it was time to place flowers on the coffins. As he watched the four coffins lower into the ground, Peter stared with a blank expression. Two of the coffins were empty, as only fragments of parents bodies remained.  
He couldn’t cry, or acknowledge the hugs and greetings he was given. The next thing he knew he was back in the limousine.  
Tony stared out the window. It was official now--Peter was alone. Even Pepper was beginning to cave at this point. There was no telling what would happen if Peter left the Avengers tower.  
When they returned, the Avengers quarters were empty. Peter went back to what was clearly becoming his room and crawled into bed.  
Tony retreated his lab, not sure what to do next.   
_________________________________  
“Tony?”  
The morning following the funeral, Peter had appeared in the lab, looking as if he hadn't slept at all. He went to the window and stared at the city.  
Tony got up from his workbench and walked over, running a hand through his hair.  
“Do you still miss your parents?” Peter asked, eyes on the city.  
Tony put his hands on the railing. “Sometimes.” He exhaled. “But I'm going to level with you kid. Sometimes it will hurt, and some days it won't bother you at all. What's important is that you remember them, and how they changed you.. Remember them for what they were, and remember to….”  
Peter looked up at Tony, silent.  
The billionaire stared back, expecting another question, but he received a tight hug instead. It caught him off guard, but he recall doing the same to Jarvis when he was a child. Jarvis had been the Alfred to his Batman, and frequently he had to cross the barrier between servant and guardian with Tony, as he did the night Howard and Maria died.  
“To what?” Peter suddenly asked, his voice muffled. Tony found himself back in the present.  
“Remember to be yourself.” Tony responded. “Not just the person you think they wanted you to be.”  
___________________________________  
“Peter, this is Dr. Bruce Banner. Bruce, this is Peter.”  
Peter and Steve returned from an afternoon in the park to find a half-naked man eating a large sandwich in the kitchen. Said half-naked man turned out to be none other than Bruce Banner or as Peter knew him from television--The Hulk.   
“It’s nice to meet you.” Peter put on a smile.  
“Sorry.” Bruce looked down at his purple sweats. “I should really put some clothes on…I was just a little worried about--the other guy.”  
Steve glanced around, wary. “Did you….uh?”  
“Oh, no. Just got a little stressed between here and Midtown. My bus ran into traffic and this guy…”The doctor trailed off and shook his head. He took a deep breath. “I’m here now, and everything is okay.” Peter was sure he wasn’t telling that to them, as much as he was telling it to himself. “So, you live in the tower now, Peter?”  
“Uh huh.” Peter nodded. “Are you going to be staying here too?” With the others popping in and out, Peter welcomed any company he could get.  
“I’ll probably stick around for awhile.” Bruce scratched his head. “I’m gonna uh, go make myself presentable.”  
After Bruce left, Peter spoke again. “He seems nice.”  
“He is.” Steve’s smile waned. “But he does have his moments.”  
“His...Green moments?”  
“Yeah. Those…”  
__________  
“Breaking News--”  
Peter’s eyes were glued to the screen. Who was in peril now? What was attacking? He wasn’t sure when he had become so obsessed with watching the news, but he knew it would forever be part of his routine. He was lucky to have two Avengers around, three was rare, four was bad news. The Avengers never assembled for fun. He had a basic theory: More Avengers around, more danger.  
Peter had given up on his Disney dream. Now, all he wanted was a break from the fighting just long enough for maybe a group lunch. Tony was downstairs, working somewhere.   
Cap and Natasha were out of the country. Logan dropped in from time to time, and he had even seen Xavier twice now. The Professor returned to the tower to apologize for any distress he had caused the boy, and offered his condolences. He also extended an invitation for Peter to join him upstate but both Steve and Tony declined as Peter was A) not a mutant and B) not explosion proof.  
That night Tony and Pepper returned with chinese, Bruce came out of his meditation room, and they had a quiet dinner until a sudden storm hit Manhattan.   
Peter looked up from his lo mein. “It’s getting really nasty out there.”   
Tony looked at him. “You’re not afraid of storms, are you Pete?”  
“The lightning scares me a little.” Peter admitted. “But not the thunder.”  
The skies suddenly lit up and Peter flinched. Thunder boomed, causing Peter to snap his chopsticks in half.   
“You’ve got nothing to worry about, Pete.” Bruce said. “We’re totally safe up here.”  
The building shook.  
Tony raised a pacifying hand. “We’re good.”  
The lights flickered.  
Tony sighed. “Give me a status report on the tower, Jarvis.”  
“Power levels stable. Mr. Odinson is coming up from the party deck, sir.”  
‘Odinson?’ Peter looked to Bruce for clarification as the elevator suddenly came to life.  
Tony shrugged. “Well, you said you didn’t mind thunder.”  
The elevator doors opened and in strode the God of thunder, himself.   
“Greetings, friends.” Thor’s voice was deep and steeped with pride. “I have returned!”  
Bruce looked up. “Oh. Hey.”  
“Welcome back, sparky.” Tony gave him a nod. “Pull up a seat.”  
“Oh. Thor…” Pepper’s eyes lingered on him for a moment. “You’re just in time for dinner.”  
Thor hung mjolnir on the coat rack and joined them at table. The storm outside disappeared.  
All of the Avengers were larger than life, but Thor was unlike anyone Peter had met before. Thor’s eyes fell on the child.  
“I believe we have not met before.” He extended a hand. “I am Thor, son of Odin from the realm of Asgard.”  
Peter offered his hand. “I’m...Peter Parker...son of Ray Parker, from Queens.”  
Thor’s eyebrows raised. “You are of royal blood?”  
“Huh?” Oh no, it's just called that, uh--”  
Thor squeezed his hand. “Well, Peter of the Queens’ Parkers, I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”  
His grip was firm but Peter could tell that like Natasha, Thor was holding back for his sake. “I’m....honored. Uh….What brings you to Midgard?”  
“You know of the nine realms?”  
“I’ve read some stuff.”  
Thor smiled. “Another clever one. Heimdall has informed me that my presence is needed here. A threat shall plague this realm.”  
Peter grew quiet. His theory was playing out again: more Avengers, more danger.  
__________________________________  
“Could you ask your all-seeing pal for a better head’s up next time?” Bruce asked.   
They had just returned to the tower full of shawarma and battle fatigued. Peter happily greeted them at the elevator, having watched their fight from Stark’s satellites.  
“You’re back! Are you guys okay!?”  
Thor scooped him up holding him high. “It was a glorious battle! Many a enemy was slain!”  
Peter blinked. “People died?”  
Thor set him down.  
Natasha and Steve exchanged glances.  
Steve crossed his arms. “Those creatures weren’t people, Peter. And they certainly weren’t friendly.”  
“Wait…” Peter’s frowned. “Where’s Tony?”  
“Stark’s busy tying up some loose ends.” Steve replied.  
Natasha put a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “It's getting late.”  
“I think the cleanup wore me out more than the fighting did.” Steve said, rolling his shoulders. “Did you eat dinner Pete? We brought back shawarma.”  
“What’s shawarma?” Peter asked.  
“I got no clue bub, and I ate the stuff.” Logan shrugged.  
________________________________

“What are you doing?” Peter asked, stepping into the room.  
“Innovating.” Tony replied, holding up something that looked like a cross between a staple gun and a syringe.  
“What are you gonna do with--”   
Before Peter could finish, Tony shot himself in the arm with the device and winced.  
“No more carrying the Iron suits…” Tony rubbed the spot on his arm and flexed. “Gonna make the suits come to me.”  
“How?”  
“Nanotechnology.”  
Peter stood next to Tony and stared at the table. “I think I get it...The nanobots are a go-between. They respond to impulses and summon the suit to your location, instead of carrying around Mk.15 or suiting up.”  
“Yep. Catching on quick, Parker.”  
“...”Peter scratched his head. “Are the pieces going to move by miniature rockets? Are you going to sync them for a instant suit, or attach based on command? I think the latter works better if you just need to blast something. Or just want the boots.”  
“All excellent questions, and all soon to answered.”  
“One more.” Peter looked Tony in the eye. “Does Miss Pepper know about this?”  
Tony raised an eyebrow. “Last I checked she wasn’t my mother.”  
Peter smirked. “I’ll take that as a no.”  
In truth he was happy to see Tony doing something. He had found the man staying up late and wandering the tower, or suddenly running off without explanation. According to Jarvis, it was panic attacks. It was understandable. After all, even Cap had his moments and his trauma was decades old.  
_____________  
Peter awoke that morning feeling hot and dizzy. He rolled out his bed and left his room--it was definitely his now, the walls decorated with posters and souvenirs from his outings, the bookshelf sporting the spoils of his afternoons with Steve at the bookstore as they learned about the world together, the closet full of clothes courtesy of Pepper, who kept him looking like he could be on the cover of GQ Jr.  
He washed up in his bathroom--clearly his, differentiated from the others by the red and blue color scheme, the iron man toothbrush, towels, and blue galaxy curtains.  
The shower didn’t cool him off. He supposed Jarvis was keeping things hotter inside as they cooled off outside.   
He went to kitchen.  
“Good morning, Jarvis.”  
“Good morning, Mr.Parker.”  
“What time is it?”  
“11:52 a.m.”  
“I overslept?”  
Downstairs, Tony was making his way out of the office. It was time for a break, and by break, he meant week-long vacation.  
“Mr.Stark.” Jarvis’ voice stopped Tony at the elevator. “I believe Mr. Parker is in need of medical attention.”  
“What?”  
He headed upstairs, where Peter was sticking his head in a bowl of ice water.  
“Tony?” Peter rubbed the water from his eyes.  
“What are you doing, kid? The ice bucket thing is kinda old.”  
“It's hot.” Peter said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.  
The elevator opened again, this time revealing Steve back from a run in central park.   
Tony glanced at him just as Peter decided to fall off the stool and collapse on the floor.  
_________  
“This looks bad.” Happy said, nervous.  
“Temperature has climbed to 102 degrees.” Steve reported.  
“Guys…” Bruce looked at the thermometer. “It's just a fever.”  
“How’s the patient doing?” Tony asked, entering Peter’s bedroom.  
“Still sleeping.” Steve replied. “Where's Nat?”  
Thunder bellowed outside, waking Peter.  
“....” As everything came into focus he began to panic. ‘One, two, three...’  
Natasha walked in. “One bowl of soup, as promised.”  
Thor appeared next, holding up a vial of swirling green liquid. “The elixir has been synthesized!”  
Natasha shook her head. “Yeah...I’m pretty sure all we need is soup.”  
Five Avengers. “What’s going on?” Peter sat up in bed. “What’s happening!?”  
Tony sat on the edge of the bed. “You scared the crap out of us.”  
“But why are you all together?” Peter asked. “What happened?”  
“You.” Natasha set the soup down on the nightstand. “You happened, Pete. We’re all here because of you.”  
“What?”  
“Contrary to disbelief, we do gather to do other things besides fight aliens and eat shawarma.” Tony joked.  
“But...I'm--”  
“Hopefully not contagious.” Tony cut him off. “Drink your soup, champ.”  
______________  
“It’s been a year, Tony.”  
Tony and Pepper stood together in the den, champagne glasses in hand.   
“No.” Tony shook his head. “Well, eight months actually.”  
“Tony.” Pepper gave him the look. “Eight months or twelve. It doesn’t matter. We’re here.”

Donny Hathaway’s ‘This Christmas’ blared through the Malibu beach house. They had left New York in all its splendor and noise behind for a warm, quiet holiday. Along for the festivities were Steve and Peter. Natasha and Bruce had been spirited off to the Bartons. The house was decorated with red, silver, and gold, making it seem more like a Iron Man themed party.   
Peter sat on the floor in front the art deco themed white tree with gold ornaments. It looked more like something Thor had described from his homeworld than an actual christmas tree, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that it was Christmas, no one was fighting, and everyone was safe.  
Well, not everyone.  
Terror threats were nothing new, but recently a group called the Ten Rings was airing their propaganda across the airwaves. The Ten Rings were not a group to be trifled with, considering they were behind the kidnapping of Tony and near-abduction of Rhodey on separate occasions. With the War Machine, (now being toted to the American people as the Iron Patriot) officially on their tail and operatives across several agencies looking into the matter, the Ten Rings were considered a joke to the public.  
With no family to carry on the traditions with, Steve and Peter dragged each other through the streets of Manhattan. After watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving day Parade, seeing the tree lighting at Rockefeller, the window displays on Broadway, and sitting through a week of Hallmark Christmas specials, Peter insisted that Cap come along to Malibu.  
The Yule log blazed on a flat screen. Steve sat on the couch, wearing a ugly sweater themed T-shirt and jeans. He felt less out of place than usual. Peter looked up at him from the floor.  
“Are you okay, Captain?”  
Given that everyone around him had a little something extra special, Steve wondered if empathy was Peter’s power. “I’m doing alright slugger. Why don’t you open one of your presents?”  
Peter blinked, as if the thought hadn’t occurred to him. “Oh, right.”   
Tony strode into the room, wrapped in a red robe and silk pyjamas.  
He was followed by Pepper, whose visible irritation transformed into an effortless smile. “Merry Christmas!”  
Tony downed his glass. “Well, ‘tis the season. Let's see those presents!”  
Peter picked up a small neatly wrapped box, marked ‘For Peter, from Natasha’.   
Peter remembered his last christmas haul, a magnifying glass, a scientist jr. Chemistry set, cartoons, socks. It seemed so long ago now. He exhaled. Now was not the time to cry. He ripped the wrapping off the package, and then opened the box.  
It was a survival kit.  
Peter wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but it wasn’t that. Still, it was a 24 piece kit that would ensure his survival of a zombie apocalypse , so he couldn’t help but love it. “Cool!”  
“Looks like you’re prepared.” Pepper said, glancing at Tony.  
“He was a little freaked out after Dawn of the dead.” He murmured in her ear. “And Shaun of the dead.”  
Peter moved on to the next object to his right, a envelope. He opened it, finding a holiday card from Clint and a voucher for a month's worth of archery lessons.  
“I think Clint’s trying to steal our kid.” Tony said to Pepper.  
“Our kid.” Steve said, the inflection in his tone of voice making it unclear what he meant.  
Whatever Tony and the others were discussing, was lost to the sound of crinkling gift wrap and tissue paper. After his mitt and bat from Steve, and telescope from Banner, Peter was down to his last gift from Tony. The box was small, black, and not wrapped or adorned with a bow. It stuck out like a sore thumb, and that excited Peter. There was no telling what it could be.  
He opened the small box and found a watch. There was no prominent name brand, no diamond setting. It was a silver, roman numeral faced, oversized watch. Peter remembered what Aunt May had taught him. He buckled down his disappointment and smiled. “Thank you.”  
“I made it myself.” Tony looked smug. “One of a kind.”  
“Really?” Peter looked down at the watch again. “Cool. I like it.”   
Steve looked at Tony as if he had grown two-heads. Given his narcissism he had expected at least a Iron Man action figure, or a remote control War Machine. But a gift was a gift, and something handmade was extra-special.  
Pepper tried to be encouraging. “It's lovely. Try it on, Peter.”  
Peter did as expected. It was a little heavy, but it reminded him of his Uncle’s pocket watch, and how many people could claim they had a one of a kind piece from Tony Stark, himself?  
More gifts were exchanged as Steve found himself the owner of a talking bald eagle statue and a cashmere sweater. Pepper was far from pleased with her larger than life stuffed bunny.  
They sat down for brunch and more champagne.   
Pepper pulled Tony aside, and Steve took Peter out on the beach for a game of catch. It was almost surreal. If Peter woke up in hospital, and this were all a dream he wouldn't be surprised.  
He looked back at the house.

Tony watched Steve and Peter toss the ball back forth. “You don’t think it's too out of the blue?”  
“I think it’s the next logical step.” Pepper replied. “I know you Tony. When you want something you keep at it until it's yours. No matter what I said, no matter what happened, you’ve kept Peter along for the ride. And he’s good for you guys. But it's a commitment.”  
“I know all about commitments, Pepper. Trust me.”  
“Yes, but Peter needs a parent. I think you want a protégé.”  
Peter glanced back at Steve and beyond him. He wound up his pitch, but something crossed the sky, and he dropped the ball. “What’s that?”  
Steve turned, following his line of sight. Several dark forms loomed in the cloud. Once he made out the missile launchers he ran towards Peter. “RUN!”  
Upstairs, the cheery music halted.   
“Merry Christmas, Mister Stark.”  
Trails of smoke crossed the sky. Steve hoisted Peter up and under one arm, running as quickly as he could from their aim--the beach house.  
Several Iron suits came up from the garage to disengage the missiles. Debris and duds rained across the beach, sand was whipped up into the air, and Steve kept moving as quickly as he could.  
Tony suited up just as the second wave hit the house. He made Pepper his priority, as another iron suit carried her off and away to a safe location.  
The last thing he saw was her screaming face before he was knocked into the ocean.  
__._.___________._.________  
With no shield and Peter in his arms, Steve kept moving. He decided against contacting Stark out of fear of revealing Tony’s location. The beachouse was purposely built to be a reclusive retreat, meaning the distance to civilization was far.  
Still he ran, until he came to a small resort. The tourists were all startled at the sight of a sandy vagabond and (possibly?) Kidnapped child, but Steve was still allowed to borrow a phone.  
While contacting Tony and Pepper was impossible, speaking with Jarvis still a possibility.  
Peter sat in the lobby on a pleather couch, staring black at the wall. His ears were ringing, he was covered in sand, and his hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Watching the Avengers on tv or from a distance was different. He felt scared, but still detached from the situation. Being in the middle of it, however...  
Steve was back in front of him before he realized it. “Jarvis got us a room upstairs. Let’s check in and clean up, alright?”

Moments later Peter found himself in a plush hotel robe, sitting at the foot of a King sized bed. The same footage of Tony’s Malibu beach house was being played over and over, and the big question if the night was ‘Where is Stark?’  
Peter held the watch Tony had sent him in his hands, folding it over and over. He clicked the clasp open repeatedly. Jarvis had reported Tony as ‘safe’. Pepper had been whisked off to the city and was currently hospitalized. SHIELD was working on picking all of them up.  
“Hey.” Steve in front of Peter. “You doing okay?”  
Peter was silent. What part of this was supposed to be okay?  
When Peter didn’t respond, Steve changed tactics. “This might seem a bit scary, but try to get some rest.”  
“I…” Peter sucked in a huge breath. “I can't! This...This isn’t right at all!”  
“Peter…”  
“Jarvis said they were safe. What does that even mean!? Miss Potts is in the hospital and we don’t even know where Tony is! What if he’s hurt? What if they’re still after us!? What if--”  
“Pete.” Steve put a hand on his shoulder. “It's going to be alright.”  
“How do you know that? How!?”  
“Because it always is.” Cap gave his shoulder a squeeze. “You gotta fight until the battle is over. The battle always ends, you just gotta fight until then.”  
Peter looked down. “I don’t know if I'm strong enough.”  
“I know you are Pete. You’ve been through a lot. You can make it past this.”  
Peter looked up. Steve didn’t move and waited for a response.  
“....Okay, Captain.”  
______  
“Peter?”  
The young boy opened his eyes. He was lying in bed. The tv was on and Steve was fast asleep next to him.  
“Peter? You there?”   
He knew that voice. “Tony?”  
He sounded close. Peter sat up in bed. “Where are you?”  
“Look at your watch.”  
Peter looked at his wrist. “Oh. Wow. It sounds like you're really here. Great speaker system.”  
“Thanks, I know.”  
“Pssh. Where are you?”  
“Middle of nowhere, Hicksville.”  
“Are you okay?”  
“Could be better. Could really go for a sandwich. Katz deli, pastrami on rye.Pick one up for me, they open early.”  
Peter laughed. “Can’t. We’re not home yet.”  
“....What? Where are you?”  
“...Still in Malibu.”  
“SHIELD ops were supposed to grab you guys hours ago. Pepper’s already back. I don’t like this.”  
“What should we do?”  
“Sit tight. Trust no one, don’t leave until I tell you the coast is clear--and if you see anyone glowing, beat it.”  
“Glowing?”  
“Yeah, from the inside. I gotta get off the comms and talk to Rhodey.”  
“Oh...ok.”  
“And Peter?”  
“Yeah?”  
“I’m sure if you find yourself in a tight spot, crank it up to 11.”  
“Huh?”  
“The watch, Pete. 11.” With that he disconnected.  
“Sounds like Stark is safe.” Steve mumbled into his pillow.  
“Uh huh.”  
Peter laid back down after that, not quite asleep, not quite awake.  
Pepper was home. Tony was safe.  
Eventually he drifted off.  
When he woke up again it was to the sound of someone knocking on the door.  
Steve went to answer it and Peter sat up on the bed. He looked at his watch. Time stood still.  
Steve opened the door just enough to peer through. “You don’t look like room service.”  
Peter heard a woman’s voice. “We’re from SHIELD. Come with us.”   
Her speech was clipped, and Peter wasn’t buying it. Wouldn’t Tony have called again?  
Steve shifted his feet. “Fury sent you?” He asked, looking the pair over--one man, one woman, both in their late thirties in matching black suits.   
“That’s right.” The man responded.  
“Well…” Steve leaned on the door. “Let me get my stuff, and the three of us can be on our way.” He began to close the door.  
“Wait--” The man reached for the handle. “May we come in?”  
“It's kinda messy.” Steve kept his tone light. “I just need a minute…”  
“Sir--”  
“Not yet.” Steve closed the door. He looked back at Peter and mouthed the word, ‘bathroom’.  
Peter slid off the bed and began to creep towards the other room as quietly as possible. Steve kept his grip on the doorknob. Just as Peter made it to the door Steve yanked his hand from the sudden, burning sensation. The door knob was sizzling. Cap took two steps back and shielded Peter from view as he ran into the bathroom.  
The door melted away, revealing the two ‘agents’. Something bright red pulsed beneath their skin.  
“You might wanna get that checked out.”  
They both lunged at Steve, and he sighed. ‘Some christmas this is.’  
Peter stood on the other side of the bathroom door, frozen. Cap could handle this, he assured himself. He knew what he was doing. He was the star spangled man with a plan--  
At the sounds of breaking glass and angry growls, Peter jumped back. Steve was still just a regular person at the end of the day, just like the other Avengers.  
Peter looked down at the watch.  
‘Crank it up to 11.’ He turned the crown, ‘One o’clock...Two o’clock…’  
Peter opened the door and it creaked.  
Steve had one foe in a chokehold. The other was recovering from being knocked into the now busted tv. All three looked up. The foe twisted in Steve’s grasp as the other ran for Peter. “NO!” Steve shouted.  
The watch made a whirring noise and unpacked itself until it encased his hand until he found himself shooting a repulsor beam blast into his pursuer, knocking them backward and through the wall to the hallway.  
Steve grinned. Of course it wasn’t just a watch.  
He chucked his own adversary to the side and watched as the red glow spread across their now cracking skin.   
“That can't be good.”  
Peter stepped out of the bathroom to witness the destruction he had wrought. “Whoa…”  
Steve grabbed his hand. “We gotta go!”  
They made it down the hallway before everything exploded.  
_______  
After being carried down 20 flights of stairs at frightening speed Peter’s world spun until they were back on the run. Somewhere along the ride Jarvis advised them to get to the airport were Agent Maria Hill was waiting with a private jet.  
Peter’s gift had reverted back to a oversized watch. He felt lucky to be alive. While Cap and Hill discussed the current situation, Peter dozed off again.  
______  
“Breaking News--”  
Peter frowned at the television. ‘Breaking news? What does that even mean? It's always breaking. It's never fixed.’  
The president was missing, Pepper was gone and Tony hadn’t contacted them in hours. Cap had left with Hill. Happy was in the hospital, Natasha was out investigating the Mandarin’s whereabouts, Thor was galaxies away, Banner was off the grid, Hawkeye was assisting in a rebellion, Logan was with the X-Men, and for the first time, Jarvis wasn’t responding.  
Now, he was truly alone.  
Peter fought his anxiety off by holing himself up in Tony’s lab, with a laptop and a pile of junk food. It was worse than the invasion. At least then he knew they were altogether. Now there was too much to worry about, and too many things that could go wrong. What if Tony needed backup? What if Bruce was captured? What if an old enemy tracked Natasha down?   
Six cupcakes later Peter was writing down every scenario he could think of and calculating the probability of each occurrence. It was a little crazy, but it was time consuming, and that was all Peter could ask for at that moment.  
____________________  
Peter woke up the following morning and went down to the kitchen, where he found Phil Coulson.  
“Hello , Peter.”  
“....” Peter’s hand slipped over his watch. “Hello...sir.”  
Coulson offered his hand. “Agent Coulson, from the Strategic Homeland--”  
“Intervention Enforcement Logistics Division.” Peter finished. “SHIELD. I figured. Can I help you?”  
Coulson shrugged. “I was sent to check on you.”  
Peter walke to the fridge. “I’m not the one that needs to be checked up on. Where are the Avengers?”  
Coulson rattled off his report as if it was business as usual. “Stark, Miss Potts and Col. Rhodes are receiving treatment. Captain America and Miss Romanov are headed this way and scheduled to be back in the city within 2 days. Mr. Barton is...working.”  
Peter raised an eyebrow at that as he retrieved a carton of eggs from the fridge. “ And Dr. Banner?”  
“Officially? Missing.” Coulson paused. “Unofficially, in Indonesia.”  
Peter sighed in relief. “Where are they hospitalized?”  
“Classified.”  
Peter frowned at him.   
“But I can take you to the location.”  
“....” Peter was silent, contemplating his next move. “No.” He took orange juice out of the fridge. “They need time to get better. I’ll stay here, thank you. And...thank you for telling me where everyone is. I’m sure you have more important things to work on.”  
“No one is okay alone.” Coulson lenaed against the counter top.   
“I’m not alone.” Peter argued. “Jarvis is here.”  
“But it’s not the same, is it?”  
“What isn’t?”  
“Having someone to talk to, and having someone nearby. Sure, Jarvis is here...” Coulson looked up at the ceiling. “But he’s not here.”  
Peter was silent. “I...I get the gist of what you're saying, but I'm the same way. Whether I'm with them or not, I can’t do anything but wait, so I'll wait here.”  
Coulson’s expression bordered on concern. “Well, I'm sorry you feel that way, Peter. As you wish.”  
Peter stayed put, and so did Coulson.  
Phil remained in the common area, occasionally making a call or sitting on the couch. Peter offered him breakfast and lunch, and by dinnertime they were eating takeout in the kitchen.  
With nothing better to do Peter asked question after question, and Coulson divulged very little.  
“How did Mr.Fury get his eyepatch?”  
“Classified.”  
“But why? I'm ten years old. Who am I gonna tell? I don't even go to school!”  
“And why is that?”  
“...Because I could get kidnapped again.” Peter looked at his plate. “At least, I think that's the reason. People could get hurt.”  
“Do you want to go to school, Peter?”  
“Not really. My teachers are always telling me to stop reading ahead, and doing my homework before they cover it in class ... Some of the kids made fun of me.” He looked up at Coulson. “But that's classified. Don't tell anyone, okay?”  
“Okay.”  
Coulson didn’t press but Peter continued.  
“It’s just...it wasn’t hard. Mom and Dad were always busy at work, and Aunt May watched me. She said I used to read a lot before I started school. But once I started school, I was told I read too much.”  
“If you could go to a school where the kids were like you, would you go?”  
“No. It’s not worth the risk.The needs of the many--”  
“--outweigh the needs of the few.” Coulson finished.   
The elevator door opened. Peter hopped off his stool as Tony stepped out of the elevator.  
“Hey. Where’s my sandwich?”  
Instead of a sandwich, he received a hug. It wasn’t as jarring as the first few times, and now something strangely familiar.   
Coulson got up from the table. “Mr. Stark.”  
“Are you okay?” Peter asked.  
“Am I okay? Yeah, just fine champ.” He ruffled Peter’s hair. “Did you have fun with Uncle Phil, here?”  
Peter fixed his hair. “Uh huh. We talked. Sorta.”  
“Heh. I can imagine. But seriously, where's my pastrami on rye?”

________  
Bonus: Mildly Civil War  
______________________________  
“Looks like we have a problem.” Steve crossed his arms.  
“Quite.” Tony put one hand on his hip. “But easily remedied. Hey, Jarvis!”  
“Yes, sir?”  
“Call the kid down here.”  
Peter went down to the gym where he found Steve and Tony glaring at each other.  
“Uh…” Peter stepped up the the two, standing at a neutral point between between them. “Can I help you guys?”  
“Let’s just cut to the chase.” Tony said.  
“Peter… We really like having you around the Tower. But…”  
“Jeez, it sounds like you’re kicking him out.”   
“No, well....” Steve scratched his head. “Well, I was thinking. If you wanted to have a normal life...We could move out.You could start over at a safe house, protected. But by we, I mean…”  
“We wanna adopt you.” Tony crossed his arms and cutting Steve off. “ We both do. Not together... Now keep in mind with me you become a Stark, but with Father Time you become a Rogers. Living in a house with a literal Mr. Rogers.”  
“I don’t get it…” Peter felt the urge to pinch himself. “You want to adopt me?”

“Yes, we both do, but with different terms.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Not everyone lives in a skyscraper, Tony. Some normalcy isn’t bad.”  
“Tch. Why would anyone want to be normal? Go with him if you want to be normal, Pete. Come with me if you want to be a millionaire.”  
Steve huffed and Peter laughed.  
“I'm honored but…” Peter rubbed his arm. “I can’t pick one of you over the other. Oh man, this is really not what I was expecting...”  
Steve and Tony exchanged glances.  
“Let's make this easier. Futuristic tower in the heart of the world's greatest city  
“ Tony looked at Cap. “Or second floor apartment in Brooklyn.”  
Steve frowned. “What's wrong with Brooklyn?”  
“Oh nothing...just crime and hipsters.”  
Steve raised an eyebrow. “The place is in Park Slope. You’re saying Manhattan doesn’t have danger? Aliens invaded for heaven’s sake.”  
“Oh I'm sorry, did you say Park Slope? My bad Peter, I take back what said. you’ll have hipster offspring and spoiled rich kids to hang out with, and classes about finding yourself instead of math and physics.”  
“Really?” Peter looked up at Steve.  
“I‘m just asking you to think about it, Peter. Someday you might wish you had another chance to do things like everyone else. I just don’t want you to miss out.”  
Tony was silent.  
“I understand…” Peter nodded. “I...I’ll think about it. But I have to go upstairs...Uncle Clint is waiting for me. See you at dinner?”  
“Okay.” Tony shrugged.  
“See you later Pete.” Steve replied.  
As Peter left they continued their bickering.  
“Hipsters, Tony? Really?”  
“I feel he needs fair warning before he gets there and everything is organic, homegrown gluten-free cardboard and really what kind of life is that for a kid?”  
“What kind of life is being holed up in a tower?”  
“You make it sound like he’s some fairytale princess…”  
“The way he’s locked up isn’t healthy, he needs--”  
“A school full of kids not on his level? No. He needs--”  
_________________________________________  
Tony washed his face for a second and went down to the party deck. He watched the sunrise. He lifted weights. He did tai chi. He would’ve made breakfast too, if Steve wasn’t already in the middle of fixing french toast with Peter. Clint, Natasha and Bruce were seated at the counter table.  
“Good Morning.” Peter greeted him with a smile that waned slightly. He knew what day it was. He knew why Tony was so wound up. They all did. But they all treated it like any other morning, for his sake. The conversation was light, and not as forced as it could have been. At noon Tony gathered his things in a bag and headed down to the common area again.  
The others were sitting around, trying to look as natural as possible.  
“Well, I’m off.”   
Clint nodded at him. “See you later.”  
Natasha gave him a small wave.  
Steve loomed away from the television. “See you, Stark.”  
“Right, later.” Tony headed for the elevator.  
“Dad?”   
Tony froze. He looked back at Peter.  
“You’re going to be fine.”  
Toyn ruffled his hair. “Yeah, I know.” He looked at Steve from across the room and mothered the words: “I win.”  
Steve rolled his eyes.  
The elevator door opened revealing Rhodey and Thor.  
“Not gonna let you go this one alone.” Rhodes said, with an encouraging smile.  
“Comrade, I have come to see you off.” Thor put a hand on Tony’s shoulder.  
“Oh..Thanks-” Tony found himself pulled into a tight hug. “Uh…”  
“Aw, group hug guys.” Clint got up from the sofa.  
“What?” Tony was still caught in Thor’s grip, so he could only squirm in horror as they all hovered closer. “Aw, no come on guys don’t do the--”  
They surrounded Tony and squashed him without warning.  
“Come on...I don’t think the Super Friends even got this mushy.”  
“Don’t confuse fantasy with reality Those guys had an invisible jet for crying out loud.” Clint smirked.  
They released Tony from his hug prison.  
“Come on.” Rhodey patted his shoulder. “You'll be back before you know it.”  
Tony nodded. “Yeah...Just a little surgery...No big deal.”  
______________________________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who’s gonna skip? We’re gonna skip---Time.  
> For the record I was born, raised, and currently live in Brooklyn.  
> Iron man 3 came out three years ago? WHAT THE F-


	4. Rise the Arachnid kid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPS: Childhood’s end  
>  Issue#4 :Rise the Arachnid kid  
> Original Story: Trixterdark  
> Parameters: Alternate universe (Earth-122591, influence from graphic novels, some of the animated series and cinematic universes)  
> Avengers movie stuff, Comic book Mandarin  
> This fic utilizes the Stark Industries/Avengers tower layout from Redtigress.tumblr.com  
> Marvel and Disney own all the stuff

Peter knew he had very little time left, but he had this worked down to the last second, and he wasn’t going to be beat today.  
“Okay, eggs scrambled, ham--perfection. Toast--butter is congealing, good. Sausage...ten seconds, nine seconds….”  
The elevator door opened.  
Tony walked out, fully dressed and wearing shades as if the summer sun could somehow chase him indoors. “Just coming down to say morning before I head out, slugger.”  
“Wha--” Peter slid the sausage onto the plate. “What about your breakfast?”  
Tony shook his head. “Handled that, protein bar--more filling than you think--”  
Peter raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I bet. At least eat your toast.” He held up the plate.  
“I'm telling ya Peter, I'm stuffed, honest.”  
“It's whole grain. Fiber. Which you lack. Eat. I insist.”  
Tony pushed the plate to the side. “ You insist quite a lot for a thirteen year old. Plenty of fiber in that bar, 30 grams.”  
“Okay, okay…” Peter sighed, putting the plate on the counter. He held his arms open for a hug. “Promise to call when you land.”  
“Yeah, yeah.” He braced himself for impact--Peter was going to squeeze the life out of him one of these days. They were much closer in height now, and at the rate Peter was growing he’d be Tony’s height by next christmas.  
Just when Tony thought he was in the clear, Peter pushed a thermos on him. “If you won't take the breakfast, at least take this.”  
“Another one of your famous juice blends?”  
“You know it.”  
“This isn’t going to taste like I’m drinking the color green, is it?”  
“Hey! I've learned from the past. I used a recipe this time.”  
Tony eyed the thermos with caution. “Well, if you say so.” He ruffled Peter’s already messy hair. “Don’t stay up too late…? That's what real parents say right?”  
“You are a real parent, Dad.”  
“Ha. Sure. With joint custody.”  
“You and Pops are both great, in your own different ways.”  
“Pssh.” Tony snatched a piece of toast off the plate. “Later, sport.”  
Peter watched him go and sat down to eat his breakfast. ‘Well, he took the thermos. Mission complete.’  
__________________________________  
A knock to the ear had Peter dodging left, where a kick to the shin was waiting.   
He winced and found himself in a headlock.  
“Focus Peter.” Natasha murmured. “I’ve won.You’re dead.”  
Peter kicked her leg out from under her. “Not yet--”  
Natasha allowed herself to fall but kept Peter in her grasp. Shifting her weight she flipped them both over, flattening him against the floor. She poked his jugular. “That's my gun. You're gone.”  
She rose to her feet and Peter huffed in frustration. Two years before he had asked to become her disciple, to learn to control his body and become his own lethal weapon. Constant peril had lead Peter to crave strength, and considering all the other Avengers fought with something a little extra, Natasha seemed to be the best choice. She didn’t need powers or enhanced weaponry to get the job done, and he admired that.  
He rolled onto his back and got on his knees. His chest was still burning from a hard kick earlier.   
She circled him. “Come on Pete. Let's try this again.”  
He exhaled. “Okay...I think I got a little more fight left…” He stood, a little shaky.  
Natasha took several steps back and then lunged. Peter dodged her first punch and grabbed hold of her arm and shifted his weight to one foot, Natasha saw through his intention to toss her and punched him. Pain blinded him for a moment but Natasha's attack ended there.  
Judging from the throbbing, Peter knew he’d be nursing a black eye.  
And so he sat at the kitchen counter a hour later, pressing an ice pack against his face.  
“Afternoon Pete.” He opened his right eye to see Steve pulling up a stool.  
“Pops.” His eye lingered on the touches of grey at Steve’s temples. It seemed to be spreading.  
“Nat did that to you? That's one nasty shiner you've got there.”  
“You know Aunt Nat, she doesn't pull her punches.”  
Just as Peter had aged, so had Steve, albeit a bit faster. As Steve was one of a kind, there was no telling what side effects the serum could have. After keeping Steve preserved for so long it seemed he was degenerating, and quickly.  
“How are you feeling today, Pops?”  
“My back’s been hurting since yesterday, and the scars haven't healed up yet.”  
“Oh. Maybe you need a massage? We could call someone up from the lounge--there should be massage sessions today according to the company schedule.”  
“No thanks. I think some good ol’ R&R will do the trick. Is Nat still around?”  
“Down in the gym. Why?”  
“I may have to have a word with her…”  
“Not about this right?” He winced.  
“Definitely about that. She's too hard on you Pete, you could get really hurt.”  
“That's the point!”, Peter bit back, and then adjusted his tone. “I need to know how to take care of myself, because you guys aren't always there to protect me. It's best for me to learn before I get really hurt.”  
Steve’s eyebrows knitted in worry, and Peter stood form. This conversation came up often, and he was tired of having it. Arguing with his Pops’ always made him feel guilty, but as the years wore on he knew he had to keep fighting for this.   
There was always an attack, a crisis, a catastrophe that required earth’s mightiest heroes. And when they were involved, things got messy. Usually Peter was fine.  
Usually.  
Just as he had access to Tony’s tech, Peter had also swiped high level clearance for SHIELD’s records. He had seen most of his file, and in it he had found a growing number.  
As of this month, that number was 32.  
32 kidnapping plots.  
32 he had clearance to see.  
While Peter wasn’t as world famous as his nuclear Super family, he had been spotted by the paparazzi enough times to be labeled the ‘Stark love child’. And with such a scandalous relationship, his value was great enough to warrant ransom.  
He was sure Tony knew that he knew. Peter couldn’t run a Google search on any computer, tablet, or smartphone without Jarvis finding out. He assumed this was the reason Tony didn’t complain about his lessons with Nat.  
While they didn’t speak about everything out loud, they didn’t have secrets from one another. Peter liked that as much as he hated it. Tony was as open as he was stubborn.  
Steve had his own brand of stubbornness, but it was always coupled with a sound argument. Taking up an argument with Steve was like arguing with the American flag--pointless. They made an interesting duo. Not that Tony would agree to that. On paper, Peter was a Stark only.  
_________________________________________  
“Aunt Nat, what are we doing here?”  
“Starting your new training, Pete.”  
They entered the building reading ‘Calvin Bailey Extension’. The modern, minimalist building featured a long hallway of still from various performances from ballet, salsa, breakdancing and capoeira.  
“I skipped an important step in your training.” Natasha explained as they stopped in front of changing room. “Before we teach you anymore techniques, you must first learn complete control over your body.”  
“And the best way to do that is...dancing?”  
Natasha handed him the duffle bag she had been carrying. “Trust me. Now go change.”  
Peter walked and returned in a tight pair of shorts, a white t-shirt, and his sneakers. “The pants are kinda tight...Like a superhero outfit.”  
“For flexibility of course. I’m sure you’ll get use to it.”  
“.....”  
They walked down another hallway. The white empty space reminded Peter of a hospital. “This place is a little creepy.”  
Natasha didn’t respond.  
“What kind of dance class is it?” Peter asked.  
“Fusion.”  
Peter narrowed his eyes at her. She was reverting to her ‘classified’ voice. “Of?”  
“A few things.”  
“Like?”  
“It's only for twelve weeks.” Natasha replied, changing the subject. “We’ll be keeping up with your training as well.”  
“You’re avoiding the subject.”  
“Class is only Tuesday and Friday, for three hours.”  
“Aunt Natasha…”  
Eventually they came to classroom where children and pre-teens were all waiting outside. Some of the kids were already stretching and bouncing on their toes. Peter tried to collect such information as he could by watching them. ‘Binding bandages...Leotards….Ballet shoes!?’  
He turned to his guardian for an explanation. “Aunt Nat--”  
But she was already gone.  
____>______________  
“Pete?”  
Peter cracked an open and rolled onto back.  
Steve stood in the doorway. “Were you sleeping? It's only seven.”  
Peter sat up and rolled his shoulders. “I’m awake. What’s up?”  
“Dinner is ready. Do you want me to bring it up or…?”  
Peter ignored the throbbing sensations that pulsed through his various body parts. “I’m coming…”  
He followed Steve back down to the kitchen. Bruce and Tony sat at the table. Manners tossed aside, Tony was already chewing his meatloaf. Banner had been hanging around the tower more often ever since Tony had started working on their special project.  
Preoccupied with his lessons and his own ventures, Peter rarely saw Tony as of late.  
From what little Tony had shared Peter knew this ‘project ’ was based off the work of Hank Pym--one of the founders of SHIELD.  
As dinner was dished out and idle chatter commenced, Peter found himself pushing his meatloaf around his plate in an effort to stay awake. He was three weeks in and longing for it all to end.  
“You want more potatoes champ?”  
Peter looked at Steve. “Beg your pardon?”  
“Tomatoes.” Tony said, and Bruce gave him a look.  
Peter propped his chin in his palm. “Oh, yeah…”  
Tony passed him the bowl of mashed potatoes. “Fresh from the vine. Ruby red.”  
“Uh huh…” Peter grabbed the serving spoon. “....”  
When he didn't move, Tony continued. “Creamiest tomatoes this side of the Verrazano.”  
Steve frowned. “Peter, are you alright?”  
“....”  
“Peter?”

While piloting a jet from DC on a reconnaissance mission, Natasha received an email from Tony. There was no text, only an attached image of Peter face down in a large bowl of mashed potatoes.  
__________________________  
Tony didn’t feel like playing ‘Papa Stark’ but Steve wasn’t letting him or Peter upstairs before they had a serious talk.   
“Now a few bruises were understandable, kiddo. But snoozing in the mashed potatoes is not acceptable.” Tony shook his head. “Come on, you were raised better than that.”  
“I know you like training with Nat, but these last three weeks have done a real number on you.You guys need to take it easy. Please.” Steve pleaded.  
‘Aaaand there's the guilt.’ “Aw Pops…” Peter sighed. “I'm sorry. I'll talk to Aunt Nat…”  
“Great.” Tony hopped out of his seat. “Well it's been fun but I gotta get back to work--” He ruffled Peter’s hair. “Stay outta trouble.”  
“Wait a minute. Stark! Get back here!”  
Tony made a quick getaway to the elevator.  
Peter attempted to fix his hair. He didn’t want to upset Steve, but he didn’t want to disappoint Natasha either. “You know Dad. He probably doesn't want to miss any big breakthroughs.”  
“He needs to sort out his priorities. What is he thinking!?”  
“Don’t worry about it,Pops.”  
_________________________  
When they returned from the dance center and began their workout that Peter and Natasha found themselves interrupted by none other than Tony Stark himself.  
Tony entered the gym and sat on a bench not far from their corner.  
“Don’t mind me.”  
Despite practicing dance fusion for several weeks, Peter was a little reluctant to perform in front of an audience. “Dad? What are you doing here?”  
“Father Time says we haven't spent enough time together...something something parenting blah, blah, blah…” He propped his chin up with his palm. “So, here I am, being ‘invested’ or whatever.”  
“Oh...kay….” Peter scratched his head.  
“Perhaps you’d like to participate?” Natasha asked, holding out her hand.  
“No thanks.” Tony shook his head. “Something about knocking my kid around doesn’t sit right with me.”  
After watching Peter go down a few times and get chewed out a few more, Tony got up from his seat and peeled Peter from the mat. “Well, I can see what the problem is. And why you’ve been having so many issues.”  
Peter wiped the sweat from his chin. “Really? Great! What am I doing wrong?”  
Tony crossed his arms. “Nothing.”  
“What?”  
He pointed at Peter.“You’re trying to defend yourself.” He pointed at Natasha. “You’re trying to make him a mini black widow…”  
Natasha raised an eyebrow.  
“--Or some other kind of spider. Arachnid kid?” Tony shrugged.   
“What?” Peter blinked.  
“That's just my observation.” Tony stated. “Now, back to the lab for me.”  
After the billionaire took his exit, Peter found himself lost in thought while Natasha waited patiently. When it seemed like Peter had become a little too lost, Natasha spoke.  
“Do you think that's true? That I'm trying to make you into me?”  
“.....” Peter struggled to keep eye contact with her. “Well, no…”  
“Look at me,Peter.”  
“....You’re--”  
“An assassin. A soldier.” She paused.  
“No!” Peter snapped. “Well okay sure, but there's more to you than that!”  
Natasha sighed. “Sometimes I wonder if that’s true.”  
“Aunt Nat…”  
“Be honest with me. What do you think of our training sessions?”  
“They’re...effective? I mean, my moves connect a lot better now, and I can do a spin kick, which is awesome. And I don’t trip over air as much...And uh….Okay. You scare me sometimes. Like you get this look on your face like you’re actually going to kill me--but aside from that….That point I'm trying to make is, I appreciate you not just for trying to teach me. I want to keep working out with you, but not necessarily train. Am I making any sense?”  
“A modicum.”  
“Good. I like hanging out with you Aunt Natasha, but we can do other things...Go see a movie, get off the island. You're not just Black Widow, and you're not just my occasional instructor. You're like, well, my aunt.” He was sure he was rambling at this point.  
“Natalia.”  
Peter raised an eyebrow.  
“That’s my real name. Natalia.”  
Peter grinned.  
“Okay, Aunt Natalia.”

_________________________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was in Japan for a hot minute so I know this chapter took twice as long to come out


	5. Catalyst--

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glass.  
> Blood.  
> Heat.  
> Sweat.  
> Spider.  
> Lies.  
> He ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPS:Obligatory origins  
> Issue#5 : Catalyst  
> Original Story: Trixterdark  
> Parameters: Alternate universe (Earth-122591, influence from graphic novels, some of the animated series and cinematic universes)  
> Avengers movie stuff, Comic book Mandarin, comic book and movie Ultron fusion,  
> This fic utilizes the Stark Industries/Avengers tower layout from Redtigress.tumblr.com  
> Marvel and Disney own all the stuff

Natasha maintained the warrior pose with no effort. On the mats beside her Steve and Peter tried to imitate her.  
“Extend your arms, Petya.” Natasha instructed. “Hold that knee, Cap.”  
“Now I take offense to that Nat. How come he’s Petya but I’m Cap?”  
“Hold your poses better, and maybe you can get a nickname too.” Natasha replied.  
“Hey kids.” Tony’s voice echoed through the gym. “Daddy’s home.”  
_______________________________  
“Well this is an awkward situation.” Tony said, standing in the doorway to Peter’s room.  
Peter wiped the sticky white substance from his goggles. “I can explain.”  
“I bet. Let’s hear it.”  
“There have been a lot of lawsuits and cases of police brutality lately, so I was trying to come up with something that would work as a replacement for using force and deterrent for criminal activity. My answer was this--Ow!” Peter peeled more of the substance away. “An adhesive that can be shot like a projectile from wrist bound gauntlets--It can hold suspects still--making arrests easier, and making excessive force a thing of the past. It can also replace handcuffs, which would lower wrist injuries as well. I’m working on how the gauntlets would work as well as making the solvent stretch.”  
“A light substance that can hold heavy weight, kept in a compact manner. Dare I call it, spider web!? Sorry, mother nature beat you to the punch, slugger.”  
Peter laughed nervously. “You know me and spiders. It always comes back to that.”  
Tony looked at the sticky mess that suspended itself from the ceiling. “Uh huh. Well keep working on it. Also…” He pulled something out of his suit and tossed it at Peter’s bed. “Keep your little spider on a leash.  
After being tossed, the mechanical marvel sprang eight legs from its easily compactable body.  
“Spidey!”Peter scooped up the tiny machine. “Dad, don't toss him. You know his inner workings cost like, a quarter of a million bucks!”  
“They cost me a quarter of a million, you mean.”  
Peter pressed a groove in the Spider’s back, causing it to fold its head and legs inward, making it resemble a chrome polygon. “Consider it a sound investment. He really works! He has like, a ton of functions now! He only went in your lab to check for firmware updates, I think.”  
“To spy on me, you mean.”  
“Whaaat? Nah.”  
“Don’t you have to get ready soon? Wouldn’t want to keep Richards waiting.”  
Peter paled. “What!? Jarvis! What time is it?”  
“He’s busy. Almost 2.” Tony looked his watch. “Why don't you ever look at your watch?”  
“Because I keep forgetting to set it.”  
“But you wear it everyday.”  
“Yeah, but I don’t need it if Jarvis is always there.”  
Tony rubbed his temples. “I don’t remember raising you to be so lazy.”  
Peter rolled his eyes. “Yeah, ok. I raised you actually, remember? So don’t sass me young man. Now go drink your protein shake, come down from the lab for dinner, and remember you have a flight to Dubai in the morning.” He paused. “Wait, he's busy? Why is Jarvis busy?”  
______________________  
“Okay Johnny, as soon as I'm done with my ‘alien goo’ we can, as you so eloquently put it, cruise for chicks.”  
Johnny Storm hugged Peter from behind, as he studied the sample under a microscope. “Oh Pete, do you know why you’re my bestest friend?”  
“Because I'm the only person around your age you see on a regular basis, and I let you drive my Maserati?”  
“Well, that and you understand what makes me tick. The Maserati is just a bonus really.”  
“It's a good thing I have you to drive it, Johnny. It's a slick ride, but you can't really do anything with it in a garage.”  
Peter had began working in the lab of Reed Richards himself as an assistant for a few months now. Tony arranged the job via his connections as he knew Peter idolized the man, and it got him away from the tower. In Peter’s opinion, getting to work with the doctor was far more fantastic than his last birthday gift, a car that by New York State law, he couldn’t even drive.  
Current he was studying a mysterious mass that had been found at a asteroid crash site upstate. However, Johnny Storm, soon to be brother in-law of his employer and probably his best friend, was making that hard for him.  
Johnny was a daredevil--not to be confused with a certain crime fighter uptown--but a thrill seeker who currently enjoyed dragging Pete along on his escapades.  
Dr. Richards poked his head into the room. “How is it going, boys?”  
Johnny looked back him with a shrug, but Peter straightened up immediately.  
“Oh, D-Doctor Richards! Uh, things are going great! Well, I mean not great but good, well I mean...th-the subject is still responding to the stimulation I gave it via the probe but, there haven't been any changes so...uh…” Peter looked down at the table. “It's...uh...yeah.”  
Johnny sighed. “As you can see, Peter here is short-circuiting and needs a break.”  
“Oh.” Reed smiled. “Well, that's understandable. Okay, I'll see you guys later.” With that he returned to his own work.  
Johnny shook his head. “Well, I better tell my sister she has competition.”  
Peter looked up at him, his face full of curiosity. “Competition?”  
“Yeah, you dork. You have the hots for Reed or what?”  
“What!?” Peter exclaimed, looking like a deer in headlights. “Wh--I'm not--that doesn't--are you out of your mind!? It's not like that at all!”  
Johnny stepped away from Peter’s chair. “Pssh, yeah okay. Methinks he doth protest too much.”  
“Do you even know where that line comes from?”  
“Shakespeare.”  
Peter blinked. “I'm impressed.”  
“So was Ms.Lake, the hottest English lit teacher I ever had.”  
Peter sighed. “Aaand there it is.”  
“I'm still wearing her down. She’ll come around eventually.”  
“Not if she wants to keep her job.”  
“Don’t try to spoil my happiness, just ‘cause your crush is taken.”  
“It’s not a crush! Johnny, I'm serious!”  
“You’re always serious, Peter. Seriously drooling over Reed.”  
“Johnny!”  
He waved a dismissive hand. “Yeah, yeah. Now come on, let's take the Mas for a spin.”  
“Ugghh...Fine. But obey the speed limit a little, okay? No more mugshots. SHIELD is tired of deleting them out of the system.”  
_________  
Peter looked up from his dinner. “Hey, Dad?”  
“Hm?” Tony’s focus was on a tablet that he held with one hand while he fed himself.  
“So I’ve been thinking...I’m getting too old to just sit around here. I want to try going to school. I don’t really know anyone my age and--”  
“I'm going to stop you right there. First, you have Johnny. Second, school is for poor people who need to learn a skill set and make connections, so they can get a good job, so they can get more money. You already have money. It’s a waste of time.”  
Peter frowned at him. “You went to school, and you had money.”  
“I went to boarding school so my Dad wouldn’t have to look at me. And it was boring. Trust me, Peter. You wanna see high school, just keep watching Saved by the Bell.”  
“Cheap shot. You know how much I love Zack and the gang. But that’s not real. I want to sit in a classroom, with other people.”  
“You’re not going to school.”  
“But Dad--”  
Tony stared him down. “Nope. Done. No school.”  
__________  
“You don’t have to be so harsh with him.”  
Tony looked up from the pool table. “What?”  
Steve stood to the side, holding his pool stick against himself. A wide streak of white hair stood out against his blonde hair, and he wore his as Tony called it, his ‘pout of justice’. “He just wants to go to school, Tony. We knew this was going to happen one day. You can’t keep him up here forever.”  
“Oh yeah?” Tony back across the table, lining up his shot again. “Watch me.”  
“He’s going to grow up at some point.” Steve stood firm. “It’s better that he learns more now than later. You can’t expect him to stay home the rest of his life.”  
Tony was silent.  
“Do you?”  
Tony struck the ball and it veered left. “Damn. Missed.”  
Steve crossed his arms. “Tony--”  
“For the love of--What happens if he gets kidnapped? What if his entire school goes under attack because someone has a score to settle with one of us? What then?”  
“That won’t happen. You send him off to that scientist's lab almost everyday and he always comes back fine, doesn't he?”  
“That's because he has two SHIELD operatives tailing him.”  
“Then they can follow him at school too.”  
Tony stood up straight again and rubbed his temples.“You’re not going to shut up about this, are you?”  
“No. I’m not.”  
___________  
“So? Party?”  
“No party.” Peter frowned. He sat in Tony’s lab, running diagnostics on the Tower’s systems. He had Johnny on the phone, through his now functional personal android companion, Spidey. Johnny’s voice came crystal clear from the small spider’s built-in speaker. “But I do have something in mind.”  
“Cruise?”  
“No.” Peter groaned. “Look, everyone is out of the house, so I’m getting out too. Dad has a few other places around the boroughs. I’m gonna get off the island for a little while, just for a night.”  
“Yeah, I get that. Well, call me up if you want to hang out. I’m free as long as nothing ‘fantastic’ happens.”  
“You hate that name, don’t you? The Fantastic Four. I think it's pretty cool.”  
“Cool!? Maybe in 1965! The names they gave us are all super lame. I don’t know what I was expecting from a newspaper named after a ugly horn.”  
“The Daily Bugle is kinda weird. They have an obvious favoritism thing going on.”  
“Yeah, they were singing OSCORP’s praises last week. Speaking of, you’re not still snooping around their files, are you?”  
“....I don’t wanna answer that.”  
“Pete.”  
“......”  
“Well, your Dad actually told Reed to make sure I kept you in ‘the right kind of trouble’.”  
“What!? What does that even mean!?”  
“You know, joyrides, parties, taking the yacht out for a spin.”  
Peter sighed and rubbed his temples. “Ugh, it's not like Dad doesn’t snoop around too. I just…” He leaned back in the chair. “Pops...Captain America has been doing missions left and right, and he says he’s fine, but he’s not. He’s deteriorating. I want to...have to help get him stable again, and I know Dad wants that too. That's why he’s flying around the world looking for clues. I'm not going to stop looking until I find a way to help him.”  
_____________  
Peter propped his head up with his palm.  
“Well, this is weird.”  
After making Jarvis privy to his plans, the helpful AI gave him a list of residences currently owned by Tony or affiliated with Stark Industries. There was a apartment next to central park, a brownstone in Brooklyn, a room at the Savoy, a few Hilton hotel suites...and two houses in Queens.  
One of which that had previously belonged to his aunt and uncle. Something about that made Peter’s stomach twist into tiny knots. Why was Tony holding on to his home? He had to find out.  
He spent the ride to Forest Hills watching video clips from Dr. Curt Connor’s theories on regeneration. Connors had been a colleague of his father’s, and member of his research team at OSCORP. From what Peter could gather, his work had entered the test phase at OSCORP, years ago. However it had not gone over as well as Ray’s human enhancement work. Mentions of his father’s progress appeared in tiny references across the OSCORP files, but for the most part his involvement with the company had been wiped clean. Peter figured SHIELD had more information on his father’s research or perhaps Tony did as well, but he doubted either source would give him access.  
He exited the train station and took a deep breath. Almost everything was as he remembered it. The same sidewalks, the same people, the same...everything.  
He took the scenic route to his house, passing the usual landmarks. He walked up and down blocks, straying from the way to his home before following the avenue down to Ingram street. There he found the lawns well manicured and the streets relatively quiet for mid day. It was like time had stood still. When he entered his old home, he found that to be all too true.  
Time had stood still at the Parker house. Aside from the removal of the bloodstains, nothing else had moved. Some of the drawers in the kitchen were still hanging open, utensils scattered across the floor. He could still hear the screaming, the banging, the pleading…  
Bile rose in his throat and he shut his eyes. He wasn’t ready. Even after several years, he couldn’t face it. He went back outside and sat on the steps.  
Not once since had he stepped back into his home after moving to the tower.  
He took several deep breaths and held his face in his hands. ‘I had the last few years to freak out. Now is not the time.’  
“Come on Pete.” He rubbed his face. “Come on. Do it for Pops.” With another deep breath he stood up and faced the front door again. ‘This isn’t about me right now. If I can find something in my Dad’s notes, that can help it’ll be worth it.’ He pressed the correct sequence on the number pad and entered the house again.  
His time he made a beeline for the newly fixed stairs. He headed for his old room. A thin layer of dust had settled over it all, as if it had been maintained up to some point, and then abandoned.  
He was curious about that, but he pushed those thoughts aside. OSCORP or SHIELD no doubt combed through the whole home looking for clues. They had probably been thorough, but how thorough? He went to his closet to check. Before going on their ‘trip’ his parents had left both Peter and a briefcase in Ben and May’s care. That briefcase had remained buried in Peter’s closet. As a child he had no idea what could be so important about a dusty bag, but now he understood. He rifled through his old clothes until he could feel the bae wooden floor beneath them, and wedged the three floorboards apart. Apparently whoever had been there before wasn’t so thorough after all.  
He pulled the leather briefcase out of its hiding spot and walked over to his old bed. He shook the top sheet first and coughed as a cloud of dust rose in the air. “Genius move there, Peter. Maybe open the window first next time?” He sat down on the bed and opened the briefcase.  
Aside from some subway tokens and an old calculator, he found nothing of worth.  
“I guess they already got the good stuff. Wait. He rubbed the back of the briefcase. ‘Something’s poking out there…” He took Spidey out of his pocket and pressed against the arachnid. In addition to working as Peter’s hard drive, phone, and wallet, the tiny spider was equipped with a extremely fine, and incredibly tiny laser. It spilt the leather from the fabric. “Thanks pal.”  
Peter turned the bag over and shook it until a small thumb drive fell in his lap. “Well that’s a little anticlimactic.” He retrieved his laptop from his backpack. While Spidey was a computer, he wasn’t willing to sick just anything into the costly little creature. The usb appeared as detected on his desktop and before clicking it, he started Tony’s decryption software. With the thumb drive now free to explore, he rifled through the storage unit with ease. The storage was only 8GB, but it could easily be called Ray’s legacy. Through it Peer found himself in both shock and awe.  
It was like he was seeing his father for the first time. His theories on regeneration through forced mutation of cells, his study of the medicinal effects of various venoms, and even some of his notes from sessions of testing his serums alongside his colleagues. Connors seemed to be working on regeneration whereas his father was focused on enhancement of existing features. ‘From the look of things it was down to him and Dr. Connors, but Dad’s was successful...somehow.’ While the notes claimed the testing was successful, it did not say on who or what it had been tested. Like his adoptive-father, Ray was a genius in his own right, and just as protective of his work.  
Peter spent what felt like an eternity hunched over his laptop until Spidey reminded him to fix his posture, after which he curled up read under his old covers.  
_________________________________  
“It’s still there.”  
Johnny stared at his phone for a moment before pressing it to his ear. It was seven a.m.--way too early for him to have coherent thoughts. But Peter was on the phone, talking ‘science’ and not making much sense.  
“Walk me through this.” Johnny put the phone on speaker and laid back down. “What is where?”  
Peter sighed. “Okay. My Dad--the biological one--created a carrier spider--a working one. I deciphered its code name from his notes and cross-referenced it with OSCORP’s files--and it's still there! They have it under cryo--uh, so it's asleep. They can't use it without a Parker, it's tailor made to fit who it infects by blood---Are you still with me Johnny?”  
“Spider...blood...Superpowers.”  
“Yes. So I want to go there and retrieve it to--”  
“Go where?”  
“OSCORP. It looks like they're keeping it uptown in the--”  
“Wait. Wait. Hang on Pete. You want to go to OSCORP?”  
“Yeah. I figure I can get in during their event today. They’re having a--”  
“Stop. Hold on. You mean SHIELD, right? Not you.”  
“No, I mean me. I already know where everything is. I’ll just--”  
“No!” Johnny sat up. “Peter, we’re talking about the company responsible for your family's murders...Just--This isn’t a good idea.”  
“Come on Johnny, I can do this.” Peter tried to sound like he had everything under control, and not like he hadn’t been up all night studying his father’s work, hacking OSCORP, and making fake documents.  
“I...Pete.” Johnny rubbed his eyes. “You're not thinking clearly about this.”  
“Excuse me?”  
“I think you should--”  
“You’re the last person I want to hear that from .”  
He heard Johnny’s breath hitch and they were both silent. The guilt hit Peter like a ton of bricks but Johnny spoke first.“Pete--”  
“I'm sorry.”  
“Pete--”  
He hung up.  
__________________________________  
After a mere three hours of sleep, Peter went ahead with his plan.  
He started by going into Tony’s lab. Stark and SHIELD were buddy-buddy to the public, but that didn’t keep Tony from swiping any tech he found useful from their headquarters.  
Peter was borrowing a set of nodes--coupled with software he had added to Spidey--the nodes, when placed on the wearer's face could project small holograms. Long story short, he was going to alter his appearance with a very high tech mask. “Jem and the holograms would be proud.”  
After testing the technology a few times in the mirror, Peter left the tower, walked into the nearest store, and affixed the nodes in the bathroom. With them he was no longer Peter Stark--He was Stan Ditko--well, physically. With some high res images and the nodes he was able to make himself unrecognizable.  
At least, he hoped so.‘It works for Aunt Natalia, anyway.’  
His revelations of Ray and his surviving research happened to line up perfectly with a Open House for OSCORP’s leaders of tomorrow: a program bringing in high school students from across the city for a Fall internship.  
“Showtime, Synergy.”  
The line was already around the block at Nine a.m. OSCORP was expecting a huge turnout, and from a city of millions they were only taking a couple hundred hopefuls. Peter stepped onto the end of the line at the cap off point. As OSCORP had a limited number of spots, Peter got his by conning it from a sleep deprived boy. They stood next to a row of yet-to-be-open restaurants.  
He jumped into line before someone else, his face half obscured by a thin hoodie under his blazer and slacks. (‘that’s what a teenager would wear, right?’)  
“I’ll give 300 bucks for your spot.”  
“Yeah, 300 bucks or a doorway to employment opportunities. Pass.” The teenaged boy had been standing in line for an hour, and wasn’t giving up a spot that easily.  
“3,000 bucks?”  
“What?”  
Peter leaned in close and deactivated the nodes. “You want to ride on a yacht? ‘Cause I'll throw in a ride on my yacht.”  
The boy’s eyes widened. “You’re Peter Star--”  
Peter reactivated the nodes and adjusted his hoodie. “Ah, no. None of that, please. I'm going to level with you. I need to get in there, and you need…”  
“You’re--”  
The girl in front of them looked back for a moment and Peter adjusted his hood again. “Oh, don't mind us.”  
The blonde girl shook her head. “Kind of hard to ignore a guy in a hoodie/armani suit combo trying to give away a yacht ride, but okay.”  
“Do you want the 3K and the yacht?” Peter asked her, hopeful.  
“No thanks.” She turned back around.  
“I want the yacht!” The boy declared. “I’ll take that yacht Mr. Star--”  
“Shh.Good.” Peter took out a cellphone. “You have PayPal?”  
After transferring the huge sum into the guy’s account and arranging a meetup for the yacht ride, Peter waited patiently to be let in. The line grew in size and Peter rocked back and forth on his feet.  
When the line finally began to move, the young woman in front of him spoke.  
“I’m curious.”  
Peter resisted the urge to scratch the skin around one of the nodes. “About…?”  
“You.” She looked back at him. “You don’t look like you need this internship.”  
“Looks can be deceiving.” Peter replied, removing his hood and looking at his reflection. They now stood a few feet away to the entrance of OSCORP. The nodes were working fine, and he was still Stan Ditko. “Best of luck to you.”  
“Ditto.” She turned back around as they filed inside. As the teenagers were processed into groups of 30 with name tags, they were filed into a small auditorium. As he took a seat next to the curious blonde girl, he half-heartedly flipped through the open house materials he had been given. On the surface it looked like OSCORP was putting a bunch of young teens on the track to their future careers. But as the company was related to the death of four of his family members, he couldn’t get excited about it.  
He stared blankly at the presentation, waiting for the right moment to excuse himself and go find the carrier spider.When it was time to take a tour around the first four floors, Peter found breaking away from his group to be impossible. It wasn’t until brunch was served in he finally found his ticket out.  
“Wow, this uh Hawaiian punch went right through me.” He made eye contact with one of the guides. “Can you tell me where the little boy’s room is?”  
“Down the hall on your left. You…” The guide raised an eyebrow, and Peter froze, praying that the nodes weren’t malfunctioning. “Has anyone told you that you look like Tobey Maguire?”  
Peter let out a nervous laugh. “Ha! That’s uh, wow. No, no one ever has said that--Gee, um, well thanks--” He dashed off. ‘Way to go Peter. Totally inconspicuous. You would think some of Dad’s charm or Aunt Nat’s overall togetherness would rub off on me, but nope. He boarded an elevator and made his way to the thirteenth floor. The ride in the transparent elevator unnerved him, and the lack of sleep was starting to kick in.  
While OSCORP’s main office featured a open, hive like design, there was something suspicious about all the open transparency. Peter made his way to the door 1307, just as the files described. A keypad on the door was the only security. He let Spidey crawl down his sleeve and on to his palm to connect itself to the door.  
The first attempt failed, and the door made a whining noise. Panic seized Peter but he allowed his Spider to try out another sequence. The door unlocked. He slipped into the room quickly. The room was pitch black.  
“Shed some light on this, Spidey.”  
His tiny companion crawled up to his shoulder a let out a concentrated beam of light. Peter could make out strands of something silver.  
“No….No way.”  
Spiders. Beyond a glass door stood a wall of spiders. Peter could feel cold air coming off the door. From the way Ray’s notes described things, there was only supposed to be one spider, not twenty.  
‘I guess either Dad made more than he let on, or OSCORP is keeping the project alive. Either way I need to move quick.’  
He let Spidey work on the glass door and it opened, but the moment he stepped inside, he noticed the yellow suit and tongs hung up the wall outside the door. ‘Wait--’  
An alarm went off as the air grew warmer. As if rousing from sleep the spiders began to move. Peter jumped back as one sprang forward. He made a quick escape and closed the glass door. Spidey had worked a little too well--not only had he gotten past the door’s security locks, he had removed the spider’s safety grid as well. He felt a set of tiny legs crawling around under his shirt that didn’t belong to Spidey. The creature was too fast for him and he yelped in pain when he felt something prick his neck.“Ahhh--!”  
He stepped out into the hall. His hand clamped on the small spider that had buried a tiny pair of fangs into him.  
He wobbled out into the hallway and made a quick getaway to the elevator.  
The alarm was still going, his neck felt hot, and he could hear someone calling to him from the hallway.  
“Hey you! Stop right there!”  
He took the elevator down, one hand over the spider, and the other pressed against the glass wall to keep him steady. The bite hurt, and it hurt a lot.  
He made his way back to tour groups. It looked like the lunch hour was almost over. He leaned against a wall. ‘Pull yourself together, Peter. Come on. We need to get out.’  
He looked across the room. Two security guards had entered the room and were questioning the guides. One of them spotted him. Their chat continued and Peter was beginning to get a weird tingle down his spine.  
He started to make his escape, but two men in suits appeared.  
“There you are! Did you find my wallet?”  
The blonde girl from before was holding onto his arm.  
“Whuh?” Was Peter’s eloquent response.  
“He was looking for my wallet.” The blonde said, looking at the two men in.suits. “I must have dropped it on the tour.” She patted his arm and looked up at him again. She frowned. “You don’t look so good.”  
He didn’t feel too hot either.  
“Are you alright, young man?” One of the guides asked.  
“No.” Peter looked ahead. The men in suits were still closing in. “Gotta--Ugh…” He dashed past them.  
“Hey!” “Wait!”  
‘Gotta go. Gotta get out of here. Gotta…’  
He shoved his way through a crowded sidewalk until he found himself at the corner, where a ‘uptown’ side train station resided.  
‘Uptown...Need downtown…’  
Where did he go in a situation like this? The tower? SHIELD? The hospital? He walked down the stairs. The warm air engulfed him, and the smell of garbage and urine made him nauseous. He went down to the platform.  
“Spidey…” He held the small creature. “Nearest clinics and hospitals.”  
As the companion rattled off nearby places, Peter tried to compose himself. He still had one hand over the now shriveled spider biting his neck. He plucked it off as gently as he could and put it in a small glass case he had brought to house the carrier specimen. ‘Doctor. SHIELD. Back up. Dad...’  
“Hey!”  
He heard someone at the end of the platform, just as the screeching of the approaching train began. As it pulled in he sighed and put on his hood.  
The car he entered was half-full. He took a seat in the corner and looked up at the display. ‘Three stops. Clinic. SHIELD. Dad…’ He fought the urge to vomit. He felt cold, but sweat began to drip down his face. ‘Three stops...Three stops.’  
___________  
“This is a Queens bound, local train. The next stop is: Forest Hills-71st avenue...Stand clear of the closing doors please.”

Peter opened his eyes again. The train rocked back and forth.  
“What do you want from me?”  
He blinked twice. The car was almost empty. At the other end, two men were standing over a woman in scrubs.  
“Gimme your purse--”  
“I don’t have any money--”  
“I said gimme your--”  
“Hey!” Peter yelled, more than loud enough to get their attention.  
He stood, holding the pole. ‘Man, I must have slept all the way to Queens…’  
One of the thugs held up a knife and shook it in Peter’s direction. “Mind your business.”  
Peter sighed. “Not today.” He was still feeling hot, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him. “Leave her alone.”  
The second thug laughed. “Or what?”  
“Boy thinks he's Batman.” The other one shook his head.  
“More like Robin.” Peter shrugged. “Eh, Damian-Robin. Adopted though. Tim-Robin?”  
“Man, listen to this nerd.”  
The first thug broke into a run towards him.  
“RUN YOUR POCKETS!”  
‘What a day. Eat your heart out, Ferris Bueller.’ Peter lunged forward and kicked the man in his chest. The train came to a sudden halt and he tumbled.  
The robotic voice over the loudspeaker began to apologize.  
“--we’re being momentarily by the train’s dispatcher--”  
The second thug began a tug of war match with the woman over her purse.  
Peter rolled out of the way as his own aggressor tried to jab at him with the knife. Peter shifted his weight and kicked the man’s legs from under him. He fell like a ton of bricks.  
“--we will be moving shortly. Please be patient.”  
Peter then dashed towards the other man, kicking him away from the woman and through the car door. Peter wasn’t sure how, but the man went sailing through the glass, then flipped through the glass of the next door, into the next car--much to the shock of everyone involved.  
The woman clutched her purse, silent.  
The first thug sat on the floor.  
The second continued to lay amongst large shards of glass.  
The seven passengers of the next car, a family of tourists, snapped pictures.  
The train began to move again.  
The first thug ran in the opposite direction to another car.  
The woman looked up at him. “Are you one of those mutants?”  
“Uh…” Peter blinked.  
The woman raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem too sure.”  
The second thug began to groan.  
The train pulled into the station.  
Peter’s gaze remained on the whimpering would-be thief until the voice announced their arrival, and the door swung open with a triumphant “Dong Ding  
”  
He stepped off the train, legs wobbling.  
Glass.  
Blood.  
Heat.  
Sweat.  
Spider.  
Lies.  
He ran.  
____________

Somehow, Peter's feet carried him all the way back to his other home. His body was hot, his mind was somehow both full and blank and he could only wait for the day to be over.  
____________  
He woke up in the bathtub, fully clothed. His body was no longer hot, and he could finally think straight. ‘I never called SHIELD…’  
He patted his pockets. From one he produced a scrap of paper. It was bright green. He recognized it from the Open house. On the back he found a note.  
‘Tell me everything. (347)555-5567 G.S.’  
‘Who?’ He remembered the blonde girl.”Oh…”  
He looked at his watch. ‘Twelve thirty? No way.’  
“Spidey. What time is it?”  
The companion crawled up his arm. “Twelve thirty, eastern daylight ti--Wait, what!?”  
______  
Peter stumbled out of the elevator to see Tony sitting in the kitchen.  
“Dad! I-am-so-sorry-I-should-have-called--”  
“Yeah, it's alright. I spoke with Johnny earlier.”  
“What?”  
“Yeah, you were still asleep. Anyhow, give us a heads up next time you're having a sleepover, okay champ? Steve was ready to mobilize the team.”  
“Oh. I'm sorry...I won't do it again.”  
“I know. I do have a few questions though.”  
“Yes?”  
“What did you do with 3K and a holographic facial reconstruction node set?”  
“I…” His mouth felt dry and everything seemed to turn cold. He didn’t want to think about the previous day. But he was home, and presumably safe, and he knew he had to tell the truth.  
“I...messed up yesterday.”  
Tony looked slightly amused. “Yeah?”  
“I wanted to help Pops...I was looking up some stuff and I went to OSCORP--”  
Something between shock and horror crossed Tony’s face. “What?”  
“I just wanted to find--”  
“You’re grounded.”  
Peter gaped for a moment. “Wha--”  
“You're grounded.” Tony crossed his arms.  
“You can’t ground me!” Tony’s sudden decision caused Peter to go off kilter. “I don’t even go anywhere--”  
“No more interning with Richards--”  
“Wha--But I--Dad listen--”  
“No, you listen.” Tony’s voice took on an angry growl. “Of all the ridiculous things you could have done--Do you have any idea what could have happened to you!?”  
“I just wanted to help--”  
“How could you be so stupid!?” He snapped.  
Peter could see the anger in his eyes. “Dad…”  
“Go to your room.”  
Peter stood still. “But, Dad--”  
“NOW!”  
Peter flinched. Tony never yelled. Even.when he was younger, Tony had never yelled at him like that. He quickly marched to the elevator without another plea. His face was hot and his vision was blurred from tears. He wiped them away quickly.  
_______  
“The only footage we could get is Peter entering the building, getting on the elevator, and leaving. Any other info is gonna have to come from the source.”  
Tony knocked back another shot as he watched the surveillance camera’s video. “Thanks.” Was all he could say to Coulson before ending the call.  
“Where is he now?” Clint asked, pouring himself a glass.  
“Still in his room.” Tony replied.  
“You seem conflicted about that decision.”  
Steve stormed into the game room then, livid. “I gotta a message from Maria. What happened?”  
“I yelled at him.” Tony said. He traced the rim of the shot glass with his finger.  
Steve was quiet.  
“I never had to do that before.” Tony continued.  
“He’s...upstairs?” Steve asked.  
Clint shrugged. “Well, that's what happens when you send kids to their rooms. Peter’s the obedient type, so he probably won't come out.”  
“Never sent him to his room.” Tony drank another shot. “Never had to do that, either.”  
“We should talk to him.” Steve crossed his arms.  
“You should talk to him.” Clint waved his phone. “Nat says she's coming back as soon as she’s done. I suggest you make up with her little Petya.”  
“He’s limping.” Tony muttered, watching the surveillance video. “Why is he holding his shoulder like that?”  
Steve looked at the large monitor on the wall. It played the camera footage over and over. “He could still be hurt. I'm going up.”  
“Go ahead.” Tony leaned against the pool table. “Jarvis?”  
“Yes, sir?”  
“Where has Peter been the last two days?”  
______  
Steve knocked before entering Peter’s room.  
The teenager was curled up in bed, despite it being six o clock. His clothes from the previous day were on the floor. He wore a old rock band's shirt and a pair of sweats.  
“Pops.”  
“Pete.” Steve sat on the edge of the bed.  
“Is Dad still mad at me?” His voice broke slightly, and Steve noticed the puffy redness around his eyes.  
“Tony’s...adjusting. He was just scared is all.”  
Peter’s eyes fell down to his bed sheets. “I'm sorry.”  
“I know.”  
Peter clenched and unclenched his hands.  
All Tony had to do was yell and he felt paralyzed. He didn’t want to move, he didn’t want to talk. For all he knew he could be dying, but he couldn't get the words to come out.  
‘Help me. I need help.’  
“Are you okay?”  
“....”  
“Peter?”  
Steve searched his face as if he could read Peter’s thoughts on it.  
When it became apparent that he couldn’t reach Peter, he tried a different tactic. He put his hand on Peter’s shoulder.  
“Come down for dinner. Then we can all talk about it, okay?”  
“Okay…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter likes all things 80s, including Jem. What is Jem? Jem is excitement. Jem is adventure--okay, Jem is a truly outrageous 80s cartoon that you should google.  
> ____  
> He also reads Batman apparently.  
> Damian Wayne--One of the many Robins. Biologically, Bruce Wayne's son  
> Tim Drake--One of the many robins that works with Batman. Adopted by Bruce.  
> \---  
> Petya. Its a Russian nickname/pet name of Piotr/Pyotr--> Peter.


	6. Inevitable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parameters: Alternate universe (Earth-122591, influence from graphic novels, some of the animated series and cinematic universes)  
> Avengers movie stuff, Comic book Mandarin, comic book and movie Ultron fusion, divergent from movie timeline  
> This fic utilizes the Stark Industries/Avengers tower layout from Redtigress.tumblr.com  
> Marvel and Disney own all the stuff

______  
Peter stared at the specimen in the container. He no longer felt sick, but he didn’t exactly feel like moving either.  
He did promise Cap he’d go down to dinner, but that meant facing Tony, and that was the last thing he wanted to do right now.  
After holding an internal debate he reluctantly headed for the door. Turning the knob, he yanked the door off its hinges.  
“What the--”  
Peter held the entire door by its knob. He attempted to drop it, but found the handle was somehow stuck to his hand. He yanked and pried his fingers off, one by one, but then found his other hand was stuck. With horror, he recalled the side effects and defects of his father’s early tests. ‘Spider traits… The subject had an adhesive-like grasping ability…’ He looked at the door. ‘Lift ten times the subject’s weight…’ He recalled his fight on the train. He squinted at his fingers. Sure enough, he could see every ridge, every fleck, every blemish, and small black ridges, poking through the surface of his skin.  
“It’s stable.” He whispered. “It works!”  
______  
He took another peek at his father’s notes. So far, his symptoms were matching up with the successful test. With that knowledge, he headed down for dinner, feeling slightly better than before. His eyes were adjusting, and he was careful not touch anything. These developments would take some time to get used to, but with his impending confinement to the tower, it seemed like Peter would have plenty of time to figure things out.  
Tony and Steve were already seated when he arrived. Cap offered him a smile, whereas Tony was suddenly very interested in his peas.  
“You’re just in time.” Steve broke the silence first.  
Peter took his seat across from them. “Yeah…” He looked at his plate and found his senses going haywire. He swallowed hard. ‘Okay, I can do this. Uh…’ He picked up his fork and knife. ‘Gently now…’ He sliced into his porkchop. ‘I'm going to have to be extra careful with everything from now on…’  
While Steve and Peter were both treading lightly, Tony wasn’t up for ‘Happy Super Family Power Hour’.  
“So, Peter--”  
Peter froze at the sound of his name.  
“Did you find anything at OSCORP?”  
Peter opened his mouth to speak as Tony continued. “We saw the camera footage.  
What happened to your shoulder?” He looked at more sympathetic than Peter had expected, and the knot of guilt grew inside Peter. Tony was not the angry Dad type. He wasn’t the angry anything type. He, Bachelor-Vigilante-Billionaire hailed by some as the most self absorbed man on the planet, had taken Peter in at a very confusing point in both their lives. He was supposed to be concerned.  
He was allowed to be upset.  
“Are you okay?” Tony asked with a huff.  
Peter blinked at the question. “ Oh...Sorry. I spaced out there.”  
‘If Dad’s not going to skate around it, then I won’t either.’  
“I...Did find what I was looking for. It's a little damaged, but the carrier should still work.”  
Tony shrugged. “Oh, the carrier is only a little damaged. Great, that’s just great.” He nodded his head towards Steve. “Now are you going to tell him, or should I?”  
Steve frowned. “Tell me what?”  
“Why Peter went in there in the first place.” Tony leaned back in his chair. “There’s no reason to leave that secret.”  
Peter bent his fork in half. “Oh. Okay, fine. If we’re going to talk about secrets, let’s start with you explaining why you bought my Uncle’s house and never told me about it.”  
Steve looked disappointed. “Tony…”  
“There was no reason to tell you about it.” Tony didn’t budge. “Nothing would have changed.”  
“Are you kidding me!?” Peter stood. “I grew up in that house! It belonged to my family for generations! My Dad grew up, and his Dad...And that’s where they--”  
Flashbacks of the night he was kidnapped were starting to bubble up but Peter fought them back down. “How can you say that?”  
“It was either me and SHIELD, or OSCORP.” Tony replied. “But last I checked you didn’t want anything to do with that place.”  
“I didn’t.” Peter admitted. “I wanted to forget everything. It was easier that way.” He stared down at the floor. “I didn’t want to go back there after wanted happened to Aunt May and Uncle Ben…”  
They were silent for a moment, each considering the actions that brought them to this point.  
“But...I had to go back.” Peter said. “I was looking into my Dad’s research because I thought I could find something to help you.” He looked Steve in the eye. “I’ve already lost so many important people in my life. I don’t want to lose you too.”  
“Peter…” Steve rose from the table and gave his son a hug. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?”  
Peter wasn’t buying it. “But you’re always going somewhere. I just wanted to help you get better so you wouldn’t go where I couldn’t reach.”  
They both looked at Tony, who remained in his chair. “What?”  
“It’s your turn to say something.” Steve gave him a look.  
Tony sighed. “I should have told you about the house.”  
“And?”  
“I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier.”  
“And?”  
“And if I keep apologizing this food is going to get cold!” He looked up. “Clint!”  
Hawkeye dropped down from the ceiling. “Is the awkward family thing over now? Because Tony’s right, the mash is nasty when it’s cold. No offense Cap.”  
Steve shrugged. “Pull up a chair. To be honest I forgot you were up there.”  
Peter looked at the bent fork on the table and slowly sat back down as the others took their seats. He pretended to knock it off the table, picked it up and went to the sink. “I’ll be right back.”  
“Can you pass me a fork, Pete?” Clint asked.  
“Sure…”  
As he ran the tap he tried to bend it back into position but he applied to much pressure and it snapped. He dropped it into the garbage disposal and plucked two new forks from the set.  
When he sat down their talk resumed, but now with Clint leading the inquiry. “So Pete, what was with your shoulder?”  
“I...I hit it on my way out of there, but it’s fine.” The lie was quick and part of Peter regretted it the moment he told it. But the Avengers had enough to worry about, right? He would tell them about his own condition AFTER they found a way to help Steve.  
_____________  
Peter’s ‘grounding’ remained in place but he didn’t mind the punishment--it gave him more time to adjust to his powers and work on his personal projects.  
He wanted to keep Johnny up to speed but using any form of communication meant Jarvis could listen, so decided to hold any conversation regarding his new abilities until they were face to face.  
Following Tony’s comments on his adhesive, he decided to make the solution more web-like.  
Two days into his ‘punishing’, Natasha returned to the tower. Peter greeted her at the elevator, happy to see his aunt after her absence.  
He was caught off guard when she suddenly slapped him. The amount of force caused Peter to reel back and clutch his face. She berated him in Russian, and Peter froze on the spot. It was scarier with his encounter with Tony, that was for sure. When she dragged him by the ear into the elevator and took him down to the gym, and Peter was honestly afraid she was going to literally beat some sense into him.  
What happened next was both strange and terrifying. Their impromptu sparring let Peter see a new side of his new abilities. Natasha’s movements were still powerful but he could now see them broken down at a quarter of the speed he was used to. It made her easier to evade, but he tried not to rely on it. The blows that she did land on him still hurt, but the pain subsided somewhat quicker than before.  
But as he was quicker to recover that only made the fight longer. An hour had passed before they realized it, and Natasha put him down in a spine hold but he tossed her with ease, sending her sailing across the room. Her back collided with one of the weight machines, and she rolled over onto the floor.  
“Aunt Natalia!” He dashed across the room. “Oh crap...Aunt Nat, are you okay?”  
Natasha sat on the floor, calculating.  
He offered her a hand. “I-I’m so sorry…”  
“You’ve gotten stronger.” Natasha pulled herself up from the floor. “Have you been working on your muscles?”  
“Uh...yeah, sure. But are you okay?”  
Natasha rolled her shoulders.“A little more left and I might have hit my spine--”  
Peter felt like he was going to be sick. ‘I could have really hurt her...What if she had hit her spine? I could have paralyzed her! Forever! What if I had used more force... What if the machines weren’t there? She could have went straight through the window--’  
Natasha snapped her fingers in his face. “Petya. Stop.”  
“Huh? Aunt Nat--”  
“Shh.” She pressed a finger to his lips. “Stop.”  
“....”  
______  
During another late night night in the lab, Tony’s tinkering was interrupted by Bruce and Steve. Bruce observed the various screens with a frown. “What exactly are you working on in here?”  
Tony shrugged. “A couple of things. World peace mostly.”  
Bruce leaned against a desk. “I was afraid of that.”  
Steve crossed his arms and took his usual brooding stance. “ Did you talk to Peter today?”  
“Sure. At breakfast. Pretty sure he said ‘morning’ and I responded. Most likely.”  
“I remember a time when Peter couldn't wait for your lab door to open, just so he could tell you everything he learned.” Steve said. “ But over the years he's come up here less and less.” He shifted on his feet. “Considering what’s happened, don’t you think it's time to break down a few walls?”  
Tony could feel Steve’s gaze. He looked away from his screen.  
“Look, I don't know how to parent, okay? The first few years were easy--Peter listened, didn’t do anything outside the tower, it was great. But now…”  
“It's time to let him out.” Steve said.  
Tony sighed and repeated the statement in a defeated tone. “It’s time to let him out.”  
_________________  
“Peter…”  
“Dad?” Peter was rinsing his web adhesive from his hands in the kitchen.  
Tony held out a keycard. “Here.”  
“What’s this?” Peter asked, taking it.  
“It’s the keycard that goes to the Parker house. Obviously you don’t need it since you found your way in but…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “This is more of a symbolic thing. It’s your place, if you want it. You can go there after school.”  
“That’s grea--Wait, what?”  
“St. Margaret’s of Midtown.” Tony looked his son in the eye. ‘When did he become this tall string bean?’ “ It’s only a fifteen minute ride from here, tons of rich kids so no one will be hitting you up for lunch money, and a security team full of ex-marines.” Tony crossed his arms. “Now I'm warning you. You’ll probably be bored out of you mind by third period, the food is bland at best and the teachers--”  
Peter squeezed him with a sudden hug. “Thanks Dad. You’re the best.”  
Tony patted his back. “Alright, alright. You’re squeezing the life outta me.”  
Peter let go, worried that he was serious.  
“Don’t thank me, thank your old pop-sicle.”  
“Okay sure. Is Pops around?”  
“Nope.”  
“Hydra?”  
“Probably. Well, that’s enough air for me. Back to the lab.”  
_____  
Peter set up several stacks of empty soda cans he had scavenged from a recycling bin down on one of the ‘Stark Industries’ floors for target practice. He was alone in the gym, his only company was a tv broadcast on the far wall. The six o’clock news report began as he continued to test the accuracy of his gauntlets or as he had described to Johnny, his ‘web shooters’.  
“--A string of robberies continues, as the sixth victim has come forward in the ‘M train muggers’ saga.”  
Peter glanced at the projection. “The M train?” He recalled his fight on the train the week before. “It can't be.”  
“--The latest victim was approached by two men in a empty train car last night around ten p.m.”  
The report continued as artist sketches of the suspects appeared. “--Anyone with information on these crimes is encouraged to call crimestoppers at--”  
“It's those guys from before…” As the news moved onto another topic, Peter paced back and forth. “It looks like they’re still at it…” He looked at his right gauntlet. With a flick of his wrist, he seized several cans. ‘If I had these back then, I could have nabbed those guys for the cops.’ He swung the bundle of cans into another stack, knocking them over. ‘Well, if I want to prove the functionality of my gauntlets, maybe I should.’ He re-stacked the cans. ‘ Dad did say I could go back to the house. If I happen to catch to crooks on my way there…well, there’s nothing wrong with that, is there?’  
He recalled his sparring match with Natasha.  
‘But let’s keep it light on the subduing and focus on the capture.’  
_____________________

 

As Happy pulled up to the gothic style school building, Peter finally pulled himself away from the window. St. Margaret’s of Midtown was a elevator school for the elite, accommodating grades 6 to 12. Cobbled together from a large Catholic church and a more modern three story wing, it was tucked away into a corner of Midtown Manhattan, somehow accessible but not to the common man, as its rich patrons preferred it.  
The school’s director was ready and waiting on the stone steps when they pulled up. Her demeanor changed slightly Peter noticed, when she saw that neither Tony nor Steve was coming along for the tour. Instead it was Bruce Banner’s turn to play guardian, as the others were busy protecting the free world.  
As they walked along, the director gave her spiel and pointed out the school’s strong points, as Bruce scratched at his unshaven face and Peter asked question after question. It was a regular school day, but neither the students nor staff paid them any attention.  
She took them up to the roof of the new wing, where students sat at tables and ate their lunch, studied, and all turned to look when Peter suddenly dashed across the cement. For at the other end of the rooftop, a freshly-released-from-rehab boy was about to take a leap off the gate and towards the sidewalk below.  
Peter jumped after him, snatching him by his left pant leg and grabbing hold of a tree with his other hand. As he had the boy in his strong, adhesive aided grip, Peter tried to figure out if it would be more ‘normal’ to pull the boy into his arms and jump down or hop back up towards the roof.  
“PETER!”  
Peter glanced upward. Bruce didn’t look like he was about Hulk out, but he didn’t seem too pleased to see Peter hanging from a branch either.  
“I got him, Pete!” Happy was ready to play the role of responsible bodyguard, abandoning his game of Candy Crush. He stood below the two dangling teens, arms open.  
“You sure?” Peter asked.  
He heard a snapping noise.  
While the young man bounced into Happy’s open arms, Peter landed perhaps too gracefully--on his feet. He pretended to wobble for effect.  
The boy was less than pleased to be rescued. “GET OFF ME!” He growled, and Happy dumped him on the sidewalk without another thought.  
“Are you okay?” Peter asked, extending his hand to the fallen teen.  
The boy was pale, a yellowish green present at the corners of his face. His long bangs obscured his face partially, and his thin frame, checkered shoes, and dark suit combo brought the phrase ‘2 edgy 4 me’ to Peter’s mind.  
The boy looked up at him, squinting. His irritation was clear, but he remained silent.  
There was something about his face that seemed oddly familiar, but Peter couldn’t figure out what it was.  
“Mister Osborn!” The director dashed out the front doors, followed by two of the supposed ex-marines his father had spoke of. Bruce was right behind them, looking a little bit more agitated now than he had a moment ago.  
“Osborn.” Peter whispered. He realized why Harry looked familiar. He had seen his face in a photograph at the Osborn home upstate when he was a child. Seeing him now he was sure he had seen Harry’s face as, it appeared on the occasional Osborn related news piece.  
Harry dusted off his suit and stood, swatting the ex-marines away.  
“I think I’ve seen enough of the place.” Peter took several steps back. “Thanks for the tour.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I came back.  
> I appreciate your responses and wish for more.


	7. Hotstuff and the Freak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPS:Vigilante Vengance  
> Issue#6 : Hotstuff and the freak  
> Original Story: Trixterdark  
> Parameters: Alternate universe (Earth-122591, influence from graphic novels, some of the animated series and cinematic universes)  
> Avengers movie stuff, Comic book Mandarin, comic book and movie Ultron fusion, divergent from movie timeline(s)  
> This fic utilizes the Stark Industries/Avengers tower layout from Redtigress.tumblr.com  
> Marvel and Disney own all the stuff

______________________________  
Bruce followed up their ride home with an hour of meditation. When he emerged from his room, Peter greeted him with a cup of tea.  
“Feeling better?”  
“Feeling adequate.” Bruce took the mug.  
“So the school seems...nice. On Monday--”  
Bruce raised a hand. “Oh I’m sorry. Did you not notice Harry Osborn goes to your school? As in son of Norman Osborn, the man who kidnapped you? And hey, let’s not forget, the owner of that building you snuck into a few days ago.”  
“Uncle Bruce, that was just a random accident.”  
“You really think so?” He laughed, and Peter knew the earlier calm was just a facade. “A stunt like that is no accident. I don’t even know why they enrolled you there in the first place.”  
“He stopped showing up.” At Bruce’s sour expression, Peter explained “I dug around. He doesn’t really ‘do’ school. He’s going to be shipped off to boarding school any day now.”  
“Yeah? Well unless ‘any day’ is tomorrow, I doubt you’ll be heading back.”  
However, with almost every New York based Avenger off battling their nemesi, Peter was free to begin classes. For his first day Natasha accompanied him on the drive to St. Margaret's of Midtown, aware of the threat of Osborn and any other potential danger to her Petya.  
Their limo was one of a few that pulled up to the prestigious school, making Peter feel a little more normal. Natasha stepped out first, surveying the area before opening the door for Peter. The only enforced part of the school uniform was wearing the school emblem on any piece of their ‘business casual’ attire.  
Peter opted for the school’s tie, dress shirt, black vest and jeans for the first day, and bright red converse--brand new for the occasion.  
He stopped Natasha at the door. “I can find my way, Aunt Nat. Trust me.”  
Natasha gave the area another look. She patted his shoulder lightly, the closest thing to being affectionate that she could muster in public. “Have a good day.”  
He smiled. “You too.”  
He waved to the limo. “Bye Hap!”  
Happy gave him a nod and adjusted his sunglasses.  
Peter disappeared into the school building. The noise and light messed with his senses--the tower was much quieter, but he shook it off. He was living in the busiest city on the planet, so he would have to get used to it.  
St. Margaret’s classrooms looked more like the meeting and boardrooms of office buildings. While there was a bit of variety with the furnishing and color, most of the rooms featured one long table, swivel chairs and a minimalist feel.  
This definitely wasn’t Bayside high.  
The staff’s approaches to teaching reminded him of the arguments Tony and Steve had about moving to Brooklyn Heights. There was an emphasis on expression, a lack of reinforcement, and to Peter’s horror, a guarantee to move onto the next year regardless of his grades.  
By his fifth session (the word period had been ruled too ‘restrictive’ for the sensitive students) he went to the library. Books were something he could understand.  
The library was a lovely collection of books. It didn’t hold a candle to the one at Professor Xavier’s school, but it was good enough. He walked up and down the rows of books, looking for a nice corner to sit in. After finding a teen couple getting hot and heavy in the periodicals, he decided it was best to be back out in the open.  
Several tables, chairs and beanbags were set up for study. At one of the tables, he saw a familiar face. It was the blonde girl from his orientation at OSCORP. He had kept her card from their first encounter, but never called her. After years of seeing civilian reactions to the sorts of messes his nuclear family got into, he knew it was better not to entangle too many people, because there was no telling what affects it could have on their lives.  
She hadn’t noticed him yet, and had a set of books open around her and a sketchbook before her. In her hands were a set of drumsticks which she used to drum on the books lightly. With his tuned up hearing he could hear her music perfectly.  
“You gotta face it--gotta face it tiger… It’s your last shot*...”  
She stopped and looked up.  
He stood in front of her. “Oh uh…” He wasn’t sure why words were failing him at the moment, but he did his best to act normal. He offered his hand. “Hi, Peter Stark. Uh, I mean, I'm Peter Stark.”  
Gwen yanked out her earbuds. She shook his hand reluctantly. “Um hey. Wow.” She tried to halt her laughter by biting her lip. “That's quite a grip you got there.”  
He took his hand back, worried.  
She didn’t seem to notice, instead pushing a few strands of hair behind her ear. “I don’t think anyone has tried to shake my hand in years.”  
“So that’s...weird?” Peter asked.  
“Pssh, no no..it's totally cool.” She waved her hands, making the sleeves of her green hoodie slide back.  
“I’m Gwen. Gwen Stacy.”  
“We haven't met.” Peter lied.  
“No, we--” She suddenly stood up, brandishing her book. “Don’t move!”  
She swung her book at him. Peter dodged.  
“What the--”  
“There's a spider!” Gwen lowered her book as Peter plucked the offending creature from his shoulder.  
“You mean this?”  
“Yes, the--” The tension drained from her. “Robot spider. Your robot spider. Right. I’m an idiot.”  
“No, no!” He pressed a grove in Spidey’s back, causing it to fold down into a hexagon, and then pressed it again. Spidey crawled up Peter’s arm. “This is uh, Spidey. He’s like, my computer slash phone slash companion uh...thing?”  
“You’re... Tony Stark’s kid.”  
“Guilty.”  
“Right. Well, sorry for almost breaking that.”  
Peter shrugged. “It happens. Dad says it's anyone's first nature to attack a spider, but I'm hoping to change that with him.”  
Gwen crossed her arms. “You're gonna have to keep working on that. Maybe make it cute or something.”  
Peter frowned as the small android climbed up the side of his face. “He is cute.At least I think so.” He retrieved the spider from his hair. “Do you mind if I sit down?”  
Gwen shrugged and plopped into her chair. “Go ahead.”  
“Thanks.”  
He sat down slowly and looked at the open books and papers in front of her. “What are you working on here?”  
Gwen’s hands hovered over her drumsticks for a moment. “I’m trying to get into this mentorship thing with Oscorp...You have to give them your ‘plan for tomorrow’, something to make the city better. So mine is--”  
“A power plant that relies on the summer sun and the winter wind. Amazing!”  
Gwen looked at her gathered notes. “You picked up on that pretty quick.”  
Peter leaned over her work. “It looks like you’re going to funnel the wind--similar to Gehry’s tower downtown--Simply spectacular. If you could work this out, it would be far superior to the one we have now.”  
While Peter was busy marveling the proposed plans he had not noticed how close he had come to Gwen. Their foreheads were almost touching, and she scooted back slightly.  
He looked up. “O-Oh…”, and returned to his seat. “Sorry.”  
Gwen shrugged. “No, no. It’s--okay.”  
Peter cleared his throat. “Uh, are you sure you want to pass these on to OSCORP? My Dad’s been into renewable energy for about a decade, and--”  
“I’d like to pave my own way, thanks.” She waved her drumstick. “I have this thing about receiving help. Sorry.”  
Peter rubbed the back of neck. “Oh. O-kay.”  
They were both silent.

Peter looked down at the plans, and then at Gwen’s sticks. “So you play the drums?”  
“Yeah.” She nodded.  
“Like, as a hobby or?”  
“I'm in a band.”  
“Yeah?” He looked up at her. “That’s really cool!”  
“Yeah.” Gwen tapped the books lightly. “It's just angry girl band stuff. Totally underground like,no one’s ever heard of us.”  
“What’s it called?”  
“The Mary Janes.”  
Peter raised an eyebrow. “You mean like--”  
“Not Pot. No. We’re not stoners or something.” Gwen’s quick defense made Peter wonder how many times she had said that before. “Our singer--vocalist-- is named Mary Jane.”  
“Ohh….”  
Gwen squinted at him. “You know, I keep thinking you look sort of familiar.”  
Peter opened and closed his mouth. “...”  
Gwen tapped the book a little harder. “I’ve probably seen you on TV or something.”  
Peter tried to be nonchalant. “Oh yeah. TV.” He tried to prop his head on his hand but missed and sat up straight. “Yeah, that's...That's probably it.”  
Gwen spun one of the sticks around. “Well, we already have my background story. What about you?”  
Peter held Spidey in his hands. “Not much to say that the tabloids haven’t covered. Adopted, living in Avengers tower, you know.”  
“Pfft. No, I don’t know.” Gwen shook her head. “I’m not as tuned in as the average stalker. To be honest, the Avengers are like the bane of my Dad’s existence, and that goes for the metahumans, and the mutants too.”  
Peter was horrified. “Really? You don’t...hate enhanced individuals, do you?” He had seen protests on the news and seen the the occasional rant on the internet but--  
“No, its nothing like that.” Gwen put her sticks down. “Dad’s a cop.” She explained. “He has a thing about people operating outside the law.”  
Peter heard a cracking noise, and realized he’d been gripping the table a little too hard. The mood was turning sour.  
Before Peter could attempt resuscitating the conversation, Spidey crawled up his face and clung to ear. “Oh, wait. Sorry, I have a call.” He stood and smiled. “It was uh, nice chatting with you.”  
Gwen nodded, waving him off. “Yeah, sure.”  
Peter found himself a quiet corner. He turned the knob on his watch. “Connect. It’s Peter.”  
“Bored yet?”  
“Dad! Hi! What’s that noise? Are you flying?”  
“Yep. Testing some stuff out. Ready to return to the tower?”  
“Pops didn’t raise a quitter. I’m beginning to think you picked this one just to throw it in my face.”  
“Nope. It’s the best. Definitely.”  
“I don’t concede. It takes more than automatic credits and mood crystals to break me. Where are you headed?”  
“....”  
“Dad?”  
“Something’s up. We’ll talk later.”  
Peter looked at his watch for a moment.  
“That was...brief.” ‘I hope he’s alright. Sounds like something needs his attention. Hopefully not something hostile.”  
_____________________  
The school bell freed Peter from his educational(?) prison. To his surprise Happy wasn’t waiting among the other drivers to take him home, but Johnny was there with the Maserati. He leaned against it, clad in a leather jacket, jeans and chucks. He looked over his shades at passerby. Johnny’s eyes fell on Peter as he walked down the steps.  
“What are you doing here?” Peter blureted out before correcting himself. “No, not that you can't be here,no...It's not like I can, I just--Can I start over?”  
“Shhh.” Johnny sighed. “I just came to see my favorite dork.” He enunciated with a playful punch to Peter’s shoulder.  
Peter didn’t stagger as he would before, but rubbed the spot out of habit. “Johnny, I'm sorry for what I said. I shouldn't have--”  
“What’s past has passed.” He slung an arm around Peter. “We have more important things to talk about, like hot teachers and Reed’s butt.”  
Peter gave Johnny a look as he let him guide him to the car. “For the last time Johnny, I have no interest in him or his...butt.”  
“There was a pause there.”  
Peter rubbed his temples and Johnny laughed as they got in the car.  
“Anyway, I'm really glad to see you. There's something I gotta show the you. But we can’t go to the tower.”  
Johnny shrugged. “As long as it's not more alien goo, I'm down. Where to?”  
“Forest Hills.”  
During the drive they discussed current events; the anti-mutant protests, Reed’s pending nuptials, and Peter’s first day of school.  
“Did you make any new friends?”  
“Uh, I’m not sure. But give me time. It’s only day one after all.”

Peter kept mum about of his real reason for going to Queens until they reached his old home. They parked across the street and headed over. Looking at the house still gave Peter mixed feelings but like his last visit, he set his emotions aside for the task at hand. He took Johnny took the weed covered backyard. There sat the car that Uncle Ben had swore for years he would fix. It was a old, bulbous Ford, more metal than anything. ‘A real fine hunk of junk’ as his Aunt May used to say.  
Johnny scratched his head and looked around. “You didn’t bring me out here to kill me, did you? Or did you--”  
Peter stood in front of the old car.“Promise you won’t tell?”  
Johnny looked over his shades.“I won't tell that you keep a--”  
Peter grabbed the back of the car.  
Johnny leaned to the side to get a better look. “Cat or a dog or--”  
Peter lifted the car over his head.  
“HOLY SHIT!”  
Peter stifled a smile. He set the car down gently.  
“What happened to you!?” Johnny looked him over. “You found some super serum or something!? Are you a mutant!?”  
“I may have accidentally been bitten by a radioactive carrier spider. So not a mutant, but enhanced.”  
“And...no one at the tower noticed you can bench press a car?”  
“Luckily for me they’re a bit busy at the moment. Pops is away, Dad’s in the lab and Aunt Nat’s hunting people down, so I should be able to hold on to this secret until Pops comes home. His degeneration has been halted and the drug cocktail they've whipped up for him is being tested as we speak. A little weapon X, Parker insight, and a touch of Asgardian magic. If anything, he'll live to be two hundred and twenty now.”  
“And you’ll be the incredible dork.”  
“Ha ha, your razor sharp wit never ceases to amaze me. Anyhow, it's not just super strength. I’ve got agility and better reflexes now. Sparring with Aunt Nat now requires a little bit of acting, since I don’t get hurt as easily. Super adhesive grip has gotta be my favorite though. Now I too know that feeling when you're dancing on the ceiling.”  
“Lionel Richie eat your heart out.” Johnny crossed his arms. “So what’s the deal? You want to join your folks and protect the free world? Or even better, make it the Fantastic Five?”  
Peter shrugged. “I do want to apply my skills, but I’m not sure if I’m cut out for the big leagues just yet. I don’t know my limits, and some practice wouldn’t hurt. I brought you here to tell you about this, but I also have some unfinished business. You’ve got more experience with crime fighting than I do.”  
“I thought we were gonna spend the afternoon driving around and catching up. But this…” Johnny grinned. “Is gonna be way, way more fun.”  
___________________________

“Based on my calculation the muggers will strike within the time window of 9:35 p.m. to 10:23 p.m., the point at which Rush hour traffic has thinned out.We’d be staying out late, but according to my tracer, Dad’s in Cali with Pops, so I have time.”  
“I can't believe you put tracers on your parents.”  
Peter shrugged. “My watch has one. It’s just a precaution. People have a habit of trying to blast my Dad out of the sky.”  
They sat in Peter’s room. The kitchen still made him nervous, and Johnny was surprised he could set foot in the house at all. They would have discussed their plans in the nearby pizzeria, but discussing citizen arrests just didn’t seem like appropriate conversation for mixed company.  
Johnny sighed. “Yeah, I know what that’s like. So, I do have the spandex on under here--force of habit, plus the ladies love it--but what are you wearing to your first rumble?”  
“Rumble?” Peter laughed. “My bad. I didn’t realize it was 1962.”* He took a red and black hoodie, and a matching mask out of his backpack. “I have this. It's a thermal ski mask. Not as creepy as the regular ski masks. Less ‘breaking and entering’ and more Luchador.”  
“Pfft. Okay, sure but if you’re going to make a career out of this, we’re going to have to work on your costume.”  
Peter looked at the mask. “I guess. You're not going to be ‘the human torch’ right? If things go sour, I don’t want to link the fantastic four to this. Everyone's getting bad press these days.”  
“Gotcha. We’ll keep the fiery stuff at a minimum. Let's say, projectiles only? I hear there are a few mutants around that can do that.”  
“Sounds like a plan.”  
“As for your disguise…”  
________________  
“Welp, I'm bored.”  
“It's only been an hour.”  
They sat on a wooden bench within the train station. Rats scurried along the tracks, the air was hot, and various humming noises broke up the silence.  
Peter’s face was hidden by his hood and the ski mask. The slightly baggy hoodie and black jeans hid his true physique. He knocked the toes of his red converse together a few times. Spidey was scurrying along the web gauntlet affixed to his left arm.  
“You mind if I grab a few slices upstairs?” Johnny asked from behind a plastic Mickey Mouse mask.  
Peter looked up at the blinking marquee. The next train wouldn't arrive for fifteen minutes. “Alright.”  
“Great. Be right back.”  
“....”  
Left to his own thoughts, Peter searched for the Mary Janes online. By process of elimination he was able to narrow things down by song titles.  
It wasn’t long until he was humming to himself. ‘You gotta face it, gotta face it tiger…’  
The scratchy robotic voice echoed through the station, announcing the next train was five minutes away. It wasn’t long before a bright light appeared at the end of the tunnel. There was a screeching noise as the train pulled into the station, and Peter took a deep breath. Johnny had yet to come back.  
As the doors opened in unison, Peter crouched on the ceiling. He was glad he was wearing gloves. ‘The train system is over a hundred years old, and so are the mold spores up here...yuck.’  
He heard sniffling.  
From the last car two figures came running out after two girls. Peter recognized the men instantly. One carried a woman’s purse under their arm. As they ran towards him, not seeing him above, Peter flexed his wrist. All it would take was some quick webbing--  
The robbers were alarmed as something white shot down from the ceiling.  
Before they could be contained, fire knocked them back. Johnny ran with a flat brown greasy bag of pizza under his arm.  
“Made it! Made it!” Johnny glanced at the two young women as they ran past. “Ladies, where’s the fire? Oh wait, its me.”  
Peter glanced from the burned webbing to Johnny. He stopped himself from saying his name out loud. “I almost had them...Hotstuff--”  
With no exit in the other direction, the two thieves ran back towards the train but the door suddenly shut. As the train began to pull out of the station burglars hopped on the back, hanging by the outer rail.  
Johnny eased up on the pyrotechnics while Peter chased after the train. He hopped onto the tracks and dashed after them. He aimed his web shooter, hoping to keep them in place on the back of the train. He yanked hold of one burglar--”Ah, didn’t mean to do that--”But seeing it as an opportunity yanked him away from the train and swung him onto the platform. His technique was rough, send the man headfirst towards a wooden bench.  
“Crap--”  
Johnny softened the blow with a quick save, and the robber was rolled over on the grimy cement. “You gotta work on your form.”  
“What kinda freaks are you!?” The man hollered.  
The train disappeared into the dark tunnel. “One out of two isn't bad, I guess.”  
Peter pulled himself back onto the platform.  
“ Don't mind us. Just your friendly neighborhood freakshow.”He retrieved the woman's purse before shooting some extra webbing to keep the man still.  
“POLICE!”  
From the mid-platform exit came two arms cops.  
“Uh oh.” Johnny’s eyes darted to the stairway to their left. “Time to split, Freak.” He made a run for it.  
Peter abandoned the purse and followed suit. They ran for three blocks, dodging several bullets.  
“HEY!” Peter called back. “THAT’S DANGEROUS! YOU COULD HIT A CIVILIAN--”  
“Keep it moving!” Johnny instructed. “Don't engage!”  
Even after they lost ran back towards the residential area, hopping fences.  
They agreed to split up for a short while, only to return to Peter's home out of their disguises. The adrenaline rush had not yet burned off for Peter. He wanted to run back out into the streets, he wanted to hunt down the other mugger, hand him over to the police and begin the hunt for a new target.  
“Congratulations.” Johnny grinned. “You caught your first bad guy and avoided your first mugshot.”  
They sat in the backyard on a pair of old lawn chairs amongst the weeds, eating reheated slices of pizza. Peter chewed through a mouth of cheese before speaking again.  
“It’s not enough. That other guy is still out there.What if he attacks someone else?It would be my fault.”  
“Uh oh.” Johnny took another bite of pizza and looked away.  
“What?” Peter asked, genuinely puzzled.  
“Don’t fall into that trop Peter. This is only your first run. I didn’t think I would have to give this talk considering the company you keep, but…”His trademark grin slipped. “You can’t get them all. Even with the police, the vigilantes,SHIELD, Avengers, Defenders, X-men and everyone in between, there just as many if not more bad guys running around. We fight to keep things balanced, not end things.”  
“That’s pretty astute...insightful and understandable to hear from you. Just the same I feel like I should try...I’m going to try.” He looked down at his web shooters. “After a little more practice.”  
“Cool. I’m here for you.” Johnny looked around the weed covered yard. “You might want to tune up your lair, though.”  
“...” Peter stared at the unfinished truck. “This place was a house for the Parkers, not a lab of the Starks. I don’t want to change anything.This place is…”  
“Home?”  
“Yeah. Somehow after everything. The tower is just one of many places. It doesn’t matter where I live with Dad or Pops but this place is different. It feels like my family is still here. I don't want to ruin their place.”  
After a moment of silence, Johnny spoke.  
“What now?”  
“Joint practice.” Peter let Spidey crawl up his arm. “We stepped on each other’s toes there. We need to work on our teamwork.  
“Pizza before practice.”  
Peter nodded.“Pizza before practice.”  
______<*_*>______


	8. Perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPS:Vigilante Vibes  
> Issue#8 : Perspective  
> Original Story: Trixterdark  
> Parameters: Alternate universe (Earth-122591, influence from graphic novels, some of the animated series and cinematic universes)  
> Avengers movie stuff, Comic book Mandarin, comic book and movie Ultron fusion, divergent from movie timeline(s)  
> This fic utilizes the Stark Industries/Avengers tower layout from Redtigress.tumblr.com  
> Marvel and Disney own all the stuff
> 
> I noticed a few similarities between the Homecoming suit and the one I designed for this, as well as a few plot points. Great minds think alike I guess. Saw the movie a day early. 10/10. Will probably see it again before this chapter is uploaded.  
> Update :Saw it 3.5 times. How is that possible? It’s a long story

______<*_*>______  
Following his somewhat successful trial run in Queens, Peter split his time between training with Johnny, going to is internship with Reed, and attending school. The occasional sparring match with Natasha or meditation with Bruce occurred but as Tony and Cap were set to return from California, Peter was focused on finding the other thief as soon as possible.  
His fixation on finding the thief didn't go unnoticed. While reviewing the information he had gathered from walking around Queens, he found himself interrupted by the mysterious Gwen Stacy.  
She plopped into the chair across from him. “Are you trying to solve a murder or what? You've been staring at these newspaper clippings and junk for days.”  
Peter looked up from his growing collage. “Are you stalking me, Miss Stacy?”  
“Don’t flatter yourself, Stark.”  
He looked up at her. Her repurposed army rucksack was still hanging one shoulder, drumsticks poking out. As her eyes went to the papers he gathered them defensively. She thought nothing of it. “Maybe you’re too close to the problem.Try getting a different perspective.” Her eyes fell to a cutout of a ad. “That’s for the new Hyperion movie--do you watch those?”  
“Huh?”Peter followed her line of sight. One of his articles had flipped over, showing a perfect cutout of an advertisement for a superhero movie. “Oh.”  
“I’m surprised. Don’t you basically live with superheroes? Isn’t Hyperion like a documentary to you?”  
Peter couldn’t help but smile. “Truth is stranger than fiction. Up close no one’s all that ‘super’.”  
Gwen propped one elbow on the desk, resting her chin on it. She looked at him through her bangs. “Do you want to go?” She leaned back to feign nonchalance. “Together, I mean.”  
Peter’s eyebrows raised. “To the movies? Like, in a theater?”  
‘Yeah, that’s usually where you go to see new movies. Unless you’re a pirate.”  
“No, no! I uh...honestly can’t remember the last time I stepped into one of those.” He caught hold of Spidey as it ran up the side of his face. “That sounds kinda fun.”  
“Cool.”  
As they finalized plans Peter gathered his things. After school he headed to his internship. With no headway being made and having tidied up the lab twice, he headed back out onto the streets of the city with the intention of following Gwen’s advice.  
The sky overhead was grey and rain sprinkled down onto the streets of Manhattan. Peter slipped his hoodie on and Spidey perched in his neck to avoid the rain. From across the street he could see into a public space area-- a seating space taking up the lobby of one if many skyscrapers. He crossed the street towards the place with the intention of getting out of the rain.  
“STOP! LET GO!”  
Amidst the bustling crowds and heavy traffic, Peter heard an angry shout. A man was struggling to keep a grip on his laptop, which a person in a Ironman mask yanked away from him and took off.  
The thief ran out of the plaza quickly shoved their way down the sidewalk and kept running. Peter followed after, sidestepping into an alley to slip on his mask and gauntlets before running at full speed.  
“Hey!” Peter yelled. “Get back here!”  
The chase continued for several. Blocks until the guy ran into an alleyway and jumped several feet into the air.  
‘A...mutant?’ Peter was not expecting that. He had his own tricks up his sleeve. Taking advantage of the narrow space he stuffed his shoes into his backpack, ran and jumped, using the adhesive nature of his appendages he could stick and clim to anything quickly. When he reached the rooftop he saw that the thief was catching their breath.  
“That’s quite an impressive skill you got there…” Peter said, moving towards the person slowly. “Maybe you should try the olympics instead of crime?”  
The thief gave Peter another glance before running and jumping to the next roof.  
Peter ran to the edge and looked at this distance between the two buildings. The gap wasn’t huge but a fall from that height would still be fatal.  
Is it worth it?’  
The thief jumped to another building.  
‘No guts, no glory.’ He used the webbing to grab hold of a pipe on the next roof.  
“Here goes nothing.” He jumped, a little higher than he expected, and swung his body onto the next landing. There was a rush of excitement as adrenaline pumped through his system. He hit the gravel covered roof, sliding for a moment. The next building had a much bigger gap, but the thief had already made the leap. So he continued on, relishing the feeling of being airborne. This time they had dropped in on a rooftop restaurant. There were shouts of confusion as some guests tried to move out of the way, while others tried to capture the event with cameras and phones. Peter caught the thief with three shots of webs, pinning him to the ground. He slipped the laptop out of the iron man masked individual’s grasp.  
“Pardon me, citizens.” He stepped through the crowd, ignoring the raised phones, cameras, and tablets. He stepped onto the ledge. “But seriously, call the cops. That guy is a thief.” Flicking a web at the water tower atop another building he swung away. He jumped and swung his way back to the public plaza, where the laptop’s owner was babbling to a policeman.  
“It had my thesis on it! There’s no wifi here--I couldn’t save it to the cloud! The cloud!”  
“One thesis paper coming up!”  
Peter dropped in on them, literally.”Excuse me--” He held the laptop out to the man. “I believe this is yours.”  
“My baby!” The man grabbed the thin laptop and squished it against his chest.  
The officer crossed his arms. “And who are you supposed to be?”  
“Just another concerned citizen.” Peter quickly took two steps back before taking off in a run.”Toodles!”  
“Hey, wait!”  
‘Concerned citizen? Toodles? Who talks like that? Eh, I guess I do.’  
Peter ducked down into a subway stairwell, moved quickly through a station underpass swiped his card and jumped on a downtown-bound train. He sagged as he plopped onto a plastic seat.  
That had been amazing. Nothing truly spectacular, but pretty amazing.  
Sure, he didn’t catch the purse thief, but he did stop a mutant(?) from stealing a laptop, and that was something.  
He transferred at the next stop, heading back to Queens to continue his quest. Maybe he wouldn’t find the mugger today, but maybe he would find other criminals along the way.  
From the ledge of a billboard sign he hovered over a busy neighborhood. With a smile, he realized he had followed Gwen’s advice. He had found a new perspective.  
And so he swung above and watched the world below. He caught a grapefruit thief at a grocery store. He found a missing cat. He stopped a gyro cart from rolling into traffic. He stopped a kid from getting bullied outside a bubble tea shop (And got a Taro slush 10% off).  
Just when he was going to call it quits and go home, he saw a familiar face holding a woman at knifepoint. “Well would you look at that…”  
Their showdown was a lot less dramatic than expected. First he incased the knife wielding hand with web, bound the mugger’s feet before he could turn around. After he fell over, his would be victim, kicked him in the groin before running off.  
“See? That’s why you don’t hold people at knife point.”  
As the mugger struggled to get out of the webbing, Peter watched him. The manhunt was over. Now what?  
Back to just going to school and helping Dr. Richards?  
As interesting as both those activities were, this had been a million times more satisfying. In a few hours he had done so much. What would happen if he kept doing this all time? The city was huge. Crimes like these happened everyday.  
“Right this way officer.. The guy in the mask stopped him!”  
The would be victim returned to the alley with two policemen.  
“Hands where I can see them!” “Don’t move!”  
With two guns pointed at him, Peter froze. That was also a factor, wasn’t it? Sure, he had been trying to help people, but he had no jurisdiction. He wasn’t a public figure like an Avenger. This was a punishable act.  
“Hold on.” The woman said. “What are you doing? He helped me.”  
A fact. Things would have panned out differently if he had not been there. How many people were caught in dark alleys, chased in parks, attacked on subways, wishing someone would appear?  
Thwip.  
He took his exit, shooting one spool of web upward, he jumped up and away.  
____________>>>>>>>>>>>>>_____________  
Peter tucked his mask away and headed back to Avengers tower. He decided to lay low for the next two days, fighting the urge to go swinging across the skyline. Johnny was stuck with his own engagements, giving Peter time to contemplate what he was doing. He wanted to keep helping people, but how would he explain that to everyone?  
When he returned home from school the next day, he found Tony and Steve in the lounge.  
“Pops?”  
Steve looked as if he had gained another ten years, finally looking a little closer in age to the other Avengers.That wasn’t saying much of course, as quite a few of the other Avengers had taken one serum or another. Peter with some mild alarm and amusement realized he had followed in their footsteps.  
“Great to see you Pete.” Steve smiled, a genuine compared to the ‘everything is going to be okay, no really’ look he had been wearing recently.  
He went in for a hug.“Same here.” He pulled away, putting a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “ How are you feeling?”  
“Good as new.”  
Tony made himself a glass of scotch. “This calls for a little celebration. What do you say we get out of here and fly out to Hong Kong this weekend? They’ve got these great rejuvenation pools at this new hotel--perfect for senior citizens.”  
Peter took a step back, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Oh. Actually I was going to--Well, I was wondering if I could go see a movie with my friend Gwen this Saturday.”  
Tony knocked back his drink and gave his son a confused expression.“Gwen? As in, a Gwendolyn or a Gwyneth?”  
“Probably…?”  
“So, a girl?”  
“Pretty sure. Why?”  
“I'm just surprised.”  
“Anyway, she’s really nice.”  
“Oh yeah? Is she a looker?”  
“Yeah, I mean I guess but she’s really smart! She’s working on this wind tunnel proposal and she’s plays drums for this band--”  
Steve walked into the livingroom.  
“Hey Steve, what do call it when two young people of the opposite sex go out unchaperoned?”  
Steve looked confused as he sat on the loveseat. “Well in my day, that was a date. Why?”  
“Hang on.” Peter gave his Dads a look. “It's not a date.”  
Steve was just as surprised. “You’re going on a date, Peter?”  
Tony nodded. “Yeah.”  
“I am not!”Peter protested.  
“With a girl.” Tony added.  
“Really?” Steve addressed him instead, ignoring Peter. “That's…”  
“Yeah.” Tony shrugged. “Weird.”  
“Anyone we know?” Steve asked.  
“How many teenagers do you know?” Tony asked, raising an eyebrow.  
Steve crossed his arms. “You know what I mean. Is it one of Charles’ kids, or someone from your school?”  
“Just a girl from school...That’s it! I don’t even like her like that,...She probably doesn’t like me either so it’s not a date...Just..” He rubbed the back of his neck, wishing away the blush that was spreading across his face. “A movie...thing.”  
Tony exchanged glances, clearly amused by this development.  
“Yeah, sure thing.” Tony poured himself another drink. “Action flick or Romcom?”  
“Action flick--”  
“You eating afterwards?”  
“We said we’d ‘figure it out’ or something.”  
Tony sat on the edge of the couch. “Word of advice kid, if you don’t want it to be a date fine, but if you do, make SURE its a date.” Before Peter could cut in, he continued. “Listen to everything she says, go some place uptown for dinner, drop her home in one of the cars--make Happy the driver--not the chaperone.”  
“....” Peter had no rebuttal. Tony’s advice was delivered with the same seriousness he gave for mission prompts and MIT lectures and Peter wasn’t so sure he could ignore it. “Uh, thanks. I’ll...yeah, I’ll try that.” He shrugged. “Well, I mean she has band practice so I said I’d meet her at the theater--”  
“Band practice?”  
“Yeah. Foe her band. A rock band. They’re pretty good actually.”  
Tony clasped his hands together. “My boy, you’ve struck gold.”  
Steve remained quiet, eager to see where Tony was going with this.  
“Rebellious stage,kid with money and Daddy issues--it’s a full package, Pete.”  
“Whaa--” Peter’s voice cracked. “It’s not even--Her Dad’s not even rich, he’s Commissioner Stacy--She isn’t--”  
“Even better. He hates us. She’d date you just to spite him--”  
“Dad--”  
Tony stood and grabbed his drink. “There’s planning to be done.” He headed for the elevator. “See you stiffs later.”  
____<<<\------>>>\-----  
“So you’re going on a date?”  
“No, Johnny.”  
Peter typed up notes while Johnny hovered over his work station.  
“I didn’t think you would bounce back from Reed this fast.”  
Peter looked up at him with a scowl, but Johnny continued. “And a drummer. Classic.” He brought them up on his phone. “Oh. The lead is cute. Mind asking if she has a boyfriend?”  
“Absolutely not. Gwen’s the only normal person at school Johnny. Please don’t.”  
“So what’s the plan?”  
“Why does everyone keep saying that? It’s not a mission, it's just hanging out. You and I hang out all the time.”  
“It’s not the same. Plus we don’t hang out as much as we hunt for robbers...Or at least we did...”  
Peter’s eyes went back to the microscope. “I don’t know what to do. I still want to patrol.” Peter admitted. “But Dad and the others would never allow it. I couldn’t even tell him about the spider bite, not with Pops degenerating or his side project...There’s no way he’s going to let me swing around town.” He leaned back in the chair. “Argh, but there’s no way I can just ignore the people around me.”  
“Of course not Pete.” Johnny crossed his arms. “I’d be surprised if you could. You’re basically hardwired to be an Avenger at this point. You’ll probably be the next Iron man or Captain America. Oh, the Iron American...or the Iron Captain! But how would the webs and Spidey work in--Iron Spider?”  
Peter looked away from the microscope again. “Oh sure. Yeah.” He shrugged. “Dad and I can build it together. It’ll be a father and son activity. I'll be the Spider lad”  
“Okay maybe not.” Johnny replied. “Well put the dynamic duo stuff on the back burner for now. Let’s talk about drummers instead.”  
Peter let out a defeated groan.  
____________________  
Peter exited the Union Square subway station,coming up in the middle of the square. The farmer’s market was still there despite the changing weather, filling the cemented area with stalls and stands. Performers stood nearby, doing their best to draw attention from the wandering crowds. Advocates for various causes held up signs and pushed pamphlets. Old men played chess, dogs were walked, and Peter stood among it all, looking for one Gwen Stacy. He saw her from a distance at a tent of baked goods, eating a sample of a gluten free-organic-such and such, chewing absent-mindedly with a earphone in one ear. She squashed a plastic bag of food to her chest and tucked her hair past her ear. Gwen glanced over her shoulder. She had not spotted him yet. He walked towards her until their eyes met and she smiled, waving.  
They took the short walk over to the theater, Peter’s eyes wandered over tables of cheap hats and sunglasses, Gwen spoke of unfinished songs and misheard lyrics.  
Gwen bought tickets from the kiosk and Peter covered snacks. It was a small talk and shared stories about their week--Gwen’s Dad grumbling about work, Peter’s Dad complaining about the ten rings.  
In the dark Peter left his life behind, concentrating on the convoluted plot of Hyperion for 2 hours. The action and explosions seemed a little over the top, and he thought it odd that almost every character knew martial arts, but he enjoyed it. As the credits rolled he glanced over at Gwen who stared back in the dark.  
“Is something wrong?” He asked.  
“It’s nothing. Oh, it's the after credits scene.”  
Peter watched the extra scene--a promise of things yet to come. And he felt relief. If only things were that simple for his family and friends--a glimpse into the future every now and then. Even Heimdall was occasionally taken by surprise by the events that would unfold.  
In that moment he found contentment, in the fact he lived in a world where people could go about their daily lives, worried about things like work and home, trusting that someone would be there to save the day.  
As the lights came back on, Gwen stretched and Peter began the sideways shuffle to the aisle. The steps were slippery from spilled soda but he treaded lightly as he made it to the landing he heard Gwen yelp. She slipped going down three steps and straight into his arms. He left her collide with him. Wrapping arms around her waist to get her steady. “Are you okay?”Up close he could see the minute details, her short bangs plastered to her forehead with perspiration, the read rims around her eyes from crying at the death of a fallen hero, the clear blue of her irises. She was pretty. But he ha known that already.  
“I’m okay.” She pressed one hand against his chest and he broke his hold on her waist.  
“Some of us have places to be.” A guy behind them grumbled, and they continued out into the hall.  
“That was something else.” Gwen said tugging down her sleeves. “Everything was so dark...I kept squinting through out the movie.”  
‘It’s all about dark and gritty reboots these days.” Peter shrugged. “I prefer the older stuff. Sure some of the special effects don’t hold up and the lines are cheesy, but at least the heroes do something besides brood and sulk.”  
“I don’t see anything wrong with some cheese every now and then.” Gwen agreed.They walked over to the escalator and headed down. The weather was cool, the rain had stopped, and Happy was waiting directly outside.  
“Happy?" Peter looked at the RollsRoyce parked behind him. Several passerby had stopped to take photos. “What are you doing here?”  
“Taking you to dinner, Mr.Stark.” Peter gave him a sour look and Happy continued. “As directed by uh, the other Mr.Stark.”  
Peter looked at Gwen. “I’m sorry.”  
She looked back at him with an amused look on her face.“Actually, I’m starving.”  
“Perfect.” Happy opened the door for them.  
Peter slid in and Gwen followed, mindful of the car’s gleaming interior and afraid to of leaving dirt on the carpeting. The seat was more comfortable than the Stacy family van. “So this is how the other half lives.” Gwen said, with a hint of mockery in her tone. “I could probably pay for my college tuition with this thing.”  
“Ten times over.” Peter said, visibly annoyed. “Did Dad pick out where we would be eating too?”  
“Antonio's--best italian joint in town. People always say it’s Frank’s but…”  
As Happy went into a monologue on fine dining, Peter slid down in his seat and groaned.  
They drove downtown towards the northern end of Little Italy, past the new high-rises and tiny tourist trap shops. Happy, oddly enough was able to get a parking spot, only six blocks away, in the lighting district. They walked past stores with different lights and lamps of different shapes--Even one shaped like Cap’s shield and Tony’s original arc reactor. They talked about the impact of reactor based power on the city, the abundance of mood lights at St. Margaret’s, and the first time Gwen changed a light-bulb (it exploded due to a power surge). It was just the right kind of conversation to put Peter back in a content mood, that is, until they reached the restaurant. Antonio's was buried among the other many restaurants of Little Italy, with the same outdoor seating at tables with checkered cloth and cannoli stand. The difference was Antonio's was completely vacant. Two men in suits stood by the doors, nodding at Gwen and Peter as they entered. The interior was dim, lit by at least three dozen candles of different sizes and shapes. There was a man with an accordion in one corner, who started playing the moment they walked in. A large mosaic on one wall featured prominent and famous New Yorkers, as well as the Avengers saving New York, above the bar were pictures of celebrities that had visited before including Tony with two blonde women, and Peter wanted to melt into the floor.  
“Oh my God.” Peter held his face in his hands, his cheeks burning. “I am never talking to him again.”  
“It’s not so bad.” Gwen looked around. “That tile work is amazing.”  
They sat down at a table for two in the middle of the room. Gwen continued to amuse herself by studying the decor while Peter wondered if he could actually die of embarrassment.  
A waiter appeared with two menus. “Welcome to Antonio’s!” He handed them the menus. “Please take your time.”  
Peter stared at the menu as if it could tell him the secrets of the nine realms and beyond.  
“I get the feeling your Dad got the wrong idea about today.”  
“Yes!”Peter snapped, but then lowered his voice. “This isn't even a date! It would never be a date!” Something on Gwen’s face changed. “Wait! Wh-No, not never--I mean if you--I’m not saying it's not possible, just not that it’s not my decision--Well, I mean--It isn't that I wouldn’t--I just--”  
The waiter put a silver tray of garlic bread between then and Peter stuffed a large piece in his mouth before he could say anything else.  
Gwen tried a smaller piece. “This is pretty good.”  
Peter chewed and nodded.  
After eating mostly in silence, Gwen spoke again over their dessert: Gelato served in long vials with whipped cream and cherries. “This was pretty amazing.” She said after two spoonfuls. “Tell your Dad I said thanks, though it wouldn’t surprise me if he wasn’t already listening.”  
There was no bill, as Tony had arranged everything beforehand. As they exited the restaurant, the men in suits parted way and Happy rose from his seat. “You kids have a good time?”  
“The best.” Peter’s voice dripped with sarcasm. Now full and somewhat composed, he spoke to Gwen again. “Can we give you a ride home?”  
“Oh, sure.” She stretched. “But I want to walk this off a little.” She gave Happy a glance before asking Peter, “You mind if we take a short walk?”  
“Sure.” Peter looked at Happy. “Alone.”  
Happy looked as if he wanted to protest. The sun was setting, and the streets were still full of people.”I doubt anything is going to happen in the next ten minutes.” Peter slipped his hands into his pockets. He knew none of this was Happy’s fault. “Okay. A loose follow then. Please? I’ll talk to Dad later.”  
With Happy trailing a few steps behind they walked from Little Italy to Chinatown. The streets were just as packed, tables selling anything from fruit from action figures lined the streets, and the smell of fish seemed to waft by on every other block.  
“This wasn’t so bad you know.” Gwen said. She pulled Peter after him, as to not lose him in the crowd. “I would freak out if my Dad did that but, at least he cares.”  
“I guess.” He looked in the window of a toy store. The Avengers were there in various forms, lined up amongst properties like the power rangers and the Justice League, as if they were also fictional. “Some days we’re in the same house, but we don’t talk at all. Sometimes he disappears for days. He...doesn’t take care of himself, and he always has something snarky to say and…” He sighed for the upteenth time that day. “I don’t know. It’s like he only seems to be paying attention to me at the weirdest times.”  
“I guess that’s how Dads are.” Gwen watched the light change from red to green. “Sometimes my Dad gets wrapped up in a case and can’t think about anything else for weeks. Someone had a vendetta against him once and tried to track down his family--me and my Mom. We had to move. Then all of sudden he was only worried about us. It’s weird but I loved it. We were together for every meal and he picked me up from school everyday. That guy went to jail, but we didn’t stop eating together or talking. So even though he gets wrapped up in his work sometimes, or makes me stay home because of one threat or another, I don’t let it bother me because I know he just wants what’s best for me.” She gave him a lopsided smile. “So give him a break. He’s trying.”  
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>  
______  
Peter returned home to find Tony, Steve, Natasha, Bruce, Sam, and Clint in the lounge.  
“Did you have to send Happy in a Rolls?”  
Tony dodged that bullet. “Did you have a good time?”  
“That’s beside the point. We were just hanging out, you didn’t have to hijack it.”  
“Everything I did was with the best intentions.”  
“He was being cautious.” Natasha clarified.  
“Nat--”Steve began but was ignored.  
“There have been a lot of reports lately of mutant and mutate related crime. Tony wanted you in a secure spot.”  
“That explains the two secret agent guys, I guess.” Peter said.  
Natasha raised an eyebrow. “You only spotted two?”  
“Yeah…?”  
“There were eight.”  
“Aw…” Peter dat on the couch. “Okay, I get it. You’re just looking out for me, I guess.” He leaned back and the room became quiet. Peter sat up. Everyone was staring at him. “What?”  
Sam raised an eyebrow.“Are you gonna tell us what happened or not? I didn't fly all the way out here for nothing.”  
“Here, here!” Clint said from his perch on the ceiling.  
“We...watched a movie, and ate dinner, and walked around...That’s it. What were you expecting? Don’t you guys have a world that needs saving!?”  
“He’s hiding something.” Natasha said.  
Sam nodded and gave Steve a look as he rose from the sofa. “Let me know when he cracks. See? I knew we should have sent the drone...”  
Bruce went back to his book. “You know my door is always open.”  
“I’m going upstairs.” Peter walked towards the elevator.  
Antman chose then to jump off Peter’s shoulder and go back to his regular size. He plopped onto the couch.“ Let’s talk guys! I’ve got the deets!”  
Peter turned back just as the elevator door closed. “WHAT!?”

**Author's Note:**

> SHIELD HQ is in NYC, as in the comics


End file.
